#so if you have any idea send me tips lmao

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for wring amputees: its ok if your amputee can't repair their own prosthetics

There's a trope in fiction for amputees to always be these mechanical geniuses who can make and repair their own prosthetics, endlessly tinkering away and improving them. This isn't a particularly trope, and i dont think its harmful or anything, but in reality, prosthetics are REALLY, REALLY complicated, and a lot of amputees cant do their own repairs. And thats ok. Like, prosthetic creation and repair is way, way harder than I think people expect. Well outside the skillset of your standard mechanic, handy man or craftsperson.

People who make and repair prosthetics are called prosthetists. To become a prosthetist, most countries around the world today require you to have completed a bachelor's degree in specifically in prosthetics and orthotics, which covers not only how to make a prosthetics (and orthodics) but a great deal of medical knowledge, physics, how different forces impact "non-standard" bodies, the additional biological wear-and-tear that comes with being an amputee and so much more. This will qualify you to do the job of fitting/making the prosthetic socket (the part that attaches to your body) and putting premade components together to make a functioning device. On top of this, many prosthetists are also expected to have artistic skills, sewing skills, good physical strength and dexterity, IT skills, and more recently, knowledge of 3D modelling and printing.

You want to make all the high-tech components the prosthetists put together to make the full prosthetic? The requirements for that vary country to country, but most will require at least some level study in the field of engineering and/or medicine, on top of what was already required for the prosthetics course.

The reason for all this is because even "basic" prosthetics are extremely finicky, and messing up one thing will have a domino effect on the rest of the body, especially in more complicated prosthetics. It can also result in people getting severally injured if anything is even slightly off. many leg amputees for example end up with spinal issues due to extremely minor issues with their prosthetic that weren't caught until years later, and by then the damage had been done.

Some amputees do learn to do basic repairs. This is most common in places like the US, where a visit to the prosthetist can cost hundred to thousands of dollars (depending on your insurance), but it's also quite common in rural parts of countries like Australia, where cost isn't an issue but access is due to vast distances between major cities. I was personally in this category; as a kid, my nearest prosthetist was 6 hours away. My prosthetist was able to teach my dad, who later taught me, how to do some of the simple repairs, but we still needed to go in every few weeks for the more complex stuff (Kids prosthetic need more adjusting than adults because they're still growing. Also I was rough on my prosthetics and broke them a lot lol).

But even after being taught how to do repairs and having my prosthetics for 20+ years, I only ever did these sorts of repairs to my below-knee prosthetic. I will not do any repairs of any kind to my above knee leg, which is much more technologically complex. Every time I tried, I made it worse to the point where the leg was unusable. I just leave those repairs to the guy who went to university to learn how to do it, and sometimes even he needs to send it off to someone with even more specialist knowledge when it's really badly messed up lol. Last time that happened Australia post lost the package. Not really relevant to this post, I just find the idea of it being sent to the wrong place by accident hilarious, it was one of my more realistic legs too so someone probably had a heart attack when they opened that package lmao.

Anyway, back on track lol.

This isn't even touching on the fact that on some more advanced prosthetics, many features are actually locked behind a security barrier only prosthetists can access. My prosthetic knee has an app on my phone I can pair it to, that allows me to change certain settings and swap between certain modes for different activities that tell the leg to change its behaviour depending on what I'm doing (e.g. a mode for running, a mode for cycling etc). but most of the more in-depth settings I can't access, only my prosthetist can, and he can only gain access to those settings with a security key given to him by the manufacturing company that requires him to provide proof of his credentials to receive it. I don't really agree with this btw, something about being locked out of my own leg's settings makes me feel a bit of an ick, but it's set up like this because people used to be able to access these settings and they would mess with things to the point their leg was virtually unusable. Because altering one setting had a domino effect on all the others, and a lot of folks weren't really paying attention to what they were messing with, all their prosthetists could do was factory reset the whole leg, which causes some issues too. Prosthetic arms are often similarly complex, as I understand it and have similar security barriers in place for more advanced arms. I don't know for sure though, so take that with a grain of salt.

All this to say these are incredibly delicate, finicky and complex pieces of equipment. There's nothing wrong with having a techy amputee character who can do their own repairs, but in reality, that is pretty rare, and its ok to have your character need to see a prosthetist or someone more knowledgeable than them. It's a part of the amputee experience I don't see reflected very often in media. In fact, the only examples I can think of in fiction (meaning not stories based on real people) where this is reflected are Full metal alchemist.

technically I think Subnautica Below Zero also mentions prosthetists are a thing in that world, but its a very "blink and you'll miss it" kind of thing...in fact I did miss it until my last playthrough lol.

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 

[writingmeraki]

gents in dilemma.

a park sunghoon drabble !

pairing : rich!boy!sunghoon x gn!reader, teasing classmates to ???

genre : fluff/humour (?)

warnings : nothing just sunghoon using his privileges as a pretty rich boy lmao also no actual knowledge os spider-man comics im sorry if it's inaccurate <3 !

author's note : wooo! a double update ?!? who is thisss mayhaps very random but i told ya'll ( if u read my recent mingu drabble ) it's been a while since i realeased anything enha :( this was sort of a warm up to get back into writing for them! if you have any ideas pls send them in!! i rlly want to write for them again hehe &lt;3

sp dt to my enha moots ! @blue-jisungs ; @lheebra ; @haknom ; @odxrilove ; @hsgwrld ; @quaissants ; @enluv ; @hannie-dul-set ; @tqmies ; @byuqi ; @urszn ; @flwoie ; @tranquilpetrichor ; @hqrana ; @shuamorollss ; @strxwberry-skiess !! just to let you know i love u guys and think of you when i open this app 💌 !! i am ia a lot but i truly am grateful for you and your works 🩷!

word count : 1.2k

You were stuck there anyways. Your brother wouldn’t come pick you up earlier enough and all your friends left already so you found no point in wanting to leave and sit outside in the hot and humid weather where you’ll probably just end up with mosquito bites and sweaty skin. 

The song played in your earphones as you lazily flipped through the Spider-man comic. It was your newest hyperfixation and you had difficulties getting copies but you were getting there. 

Suddenly an intrusion popped in front of you as you got to the good part, but you paid no mind to whoever it was. 

Besides, who in their right mind would want to make small talk with a stranger in the damned detention room?

The music was dull but you could hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sighing, you put down the comic and looked unamused at the boy in front of you. 

Park Sunghoon. Rich, smart, pretty boy who lived up to all the stereotypes that clung to his personality while also hanging out with the same sort of people. Not a stranger you thought. 

You wondered how you missed seeing him and…Park Jonseong? (If you remembered correctly) walk in. Perhaps you indeed were too focused in your daydreams. 

Now amusement flickered in your gaze as you looked up at him. 

He definitely did live to his pretty boy name you mused as you took in the moles on his face, the shade of his pink lips, the messy yet perfectly sitting hair of his. 

He gulped under your calculating gaze, not knowing why he felt nervous all of a sudden when it was his idea to tell you not to say anything to Mr.Kim for when Jay and him would ditch the detention they got that day. He confidently told his friend he would threaten you if you didn’t comply, perhaps maybe bribe you a bit and surely it would do the trick.

But how his words seemed to bite right back at him because suddenly his mouth felt drier and tongue heavier under your gaze. For a brief moment, he wondered how he had never seen you, otherwise, he knew he wouldn’t be able to forget a face like yours. 

“Now now,what ever have I done to have the Park Sunghoon right in front of me?” You grinned teasingly at him and fuck you had dimples. He swore he might have died in that moment and reached heaven.

He felt a shove that snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Uh-yeah um we- wait you know me?” You raised a brow at his words, the amusement only growing as you saw the tip of his ears getting red.

Was he flustered…by you?

“ ‘course I do, it would seem weird if I didn’t at least to you people.” You murmured the last part, darting your eyes to his friend who seemed to roll his eyes.You weren’t sure if it was because of you or because of Sunghoon.

“Can you get to the point idiot-”

“Hey! Shut up, yeah? I’m talking-”

“All I see is you acting like a huge fucking si-”

They whispered to each other, almost making you giggle at the way they both seemed to be arguing over something, you figured you were somehow involved. 

“Well see- the thing is we’re going to ditch this.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head a little as you leaned forward in your chair, placing your head on one hand.

“And? Does that concern me?”

“We don’t want you snitching, that’s what he meant. You can ditch too, Mr.Kim’s known for never coming back to his detentions once he leaves.” 

You shook your head, “I’m fine here, I have to wait anyways, you can-”

Suddenly a thought occurred to you, “Hmm, the snitching on you both part sounds tempting, I might even get brownie points, struggling with his class anyways.” 

No,he was not supposed to find your smirk cute, nor the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Wha- what’s in it for you?! You can ditch too! Didn’t I say that already-”

“Wait. I might have something.”

Jay stared at Sunghoon in both disbelief and annoyance while you looked at him curiously. He set his bag down and opened it, pulling out something.

“Here.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The newest edition of the Spider-man series. You’d been trying for ages to get it, but held yourself back when you saw the triple digit price point. 

Of course he’d have this. 

You gasped in disbelief, looking in awe as you grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Sunghoon found it absolutely cute the way your eyes lit up. 

He was concerned about how enduring he already found you in the span of approximately 10 minutes. 

“It’s too expensive, I can’t-”

“Who said I am giving it to you? I’m letting you borrow it so you won’t rat us out.”

It seemed the tables turned and it was your turn to be flustered under his teasing gaze and he did in fact have a cute grin. Shit-eating one but adorable. 

“I’ll take it to my grave.” You hugged the comic to your chest and did a zipping your mouth motion, throwing away the pretend key. He let out a chuckle at your actions and the sound absolutely did not do something to your heart ( You think it might have burst ). 

Jay had been observing the interaction and he knew why exactly Sunghoon did what he was doing. Seems like the supposed ‘ice’ prince was melting at your mere presence. Oh he was so going to spill everything to the rest of his friends and tease him for the life of it. 

Sunghoon’s gaze moved towards your phone, seeing it was still unlocked he took it while you yelped in alarm, “Hey! I said I won’t say anything!”

You had stood up from your chair and now only realised just how much taller he was than you when he began to type something with his hands raised above you. 

“Here. My number and I rang it to have yours. Call me when you’re done reading, I expect to get my comic back soon enough.” He held your hand and plopped your phone in it, while you remained frozen at his bold moves. Even the blonde next to him was surprised at his actions, that probably said a lot to you. 

He swung his arm around Jay who had an amused grin as he shook his head, waving bye to you, pausing for a moment when he realized something as he looked back at you.

“What’s your name?” 

“Uh-oh um,” You were still in a trance at what just happened as you said your name, not as confidently as you wished and you cursed yourself mentally for already being so hung up on his actions. 

He repeated it as if testing it out, “See you soon then,” He grinned at you as you just chose to wave back, thinking you might just say something stupid. 

Looking down at your phone, you saw his number and back at the comic book that laid on the desk, you grinned bashfully, shaking your head as you laughed.

Maybe just maybe, Park Sunghoon wouldn't have to wait until you finished the comic for you to see him. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | enhypen masterlist !

[doki-doki-imagines]

Okay so I'm NOT the anon who requested the lin keui trio +earthrealm defenders reaction to y/n asking them to eat pineapple to make their cum taste better.

But I'm about to be the non-anon that requests a follow-up of the lin keui trio +earthrealm defenders reaction to seeing y/n EATING pineapple right in front of them afterwards to make their(y/n's) cum taste better.

Or even just for your name to say "I had pineapple" and guage reaction.

Fun ask, last time. Fun answer, too! Thank you for writing it. No pressure on this ask, love your work!

author note: sequel of this. I don't think I should laugh so much doing these kind of hcs LMAO. Also thanks for your kind words!!

tw: vulgar language, some suggestive but nothing nsfw is described.

If you like what I write consider tipping on my ko-fi

Johnny Cage: -He would do the nose flick and smile from one ear to the other. -Johnny is so showing off, he just misses the peacock's tail being wide open and he would be perfect. -"You'd really do anything to be eaten out by me, mh?" He says trying to block the new smile by biting his lower lip "Amazing technique, right?" -Best advice: fuck the arrogance out of him. It won't work but at least it will be a fun time.

Kenshi Takahashi: -He…he can't see you. -Kenshi understands you are drinking something, but he really can't tell what's inside. -"I have been drinking pineapple juice lately." You say trying to sound as smooth as possible. "That's good, it has excellent anti-inflammatory properties." He replies kissing your forehead. -Kenshi knows from the moment the fruit name rolled out from your lips where things were going. -Did you try to tease him? Send him a message? Too bad, ask nicely or even better, beg. He won't give up for anything less.

Kung Lao: -He looks at you with such as big smirk… -"So, are you getting ready for later?" Lao whispers in your ear, hands sliding toward your backside. "Yeah, I have to meet with Raiden." -1HKO. -Seems only right to tease him back.

Raiden: -He stutters a bit when he sees you gulping down a cup of the juice. -"You don't have to exaggerate. I appreciate the feeling, but don't hurt yourself." He says before softly knocking your foreheads together. -This guy can be so overwhelmingly sweet.

Liu Kang: -He looks at you, sitting on the kitchen chair while you gulp a big glass of pineapple juice down, your back towards the stove. -"I know what you are doing. You are so silly" He chuckles "Bend." "What?" You reply unimpressed putting the now empty glass on the counter. -"Bend." Liu Kang says again, but his voice is full of mirth. "Or what?" You challenge him. -It all happens in a second. You bat your eyes and you feel his strong hands on your forearms pushing you around and bending you down. "Or I'll do it. Let's see if the juice benefits already worked on your body." -They did not. But if you knew challenging authorities was so fun you would have done that way earlier!

Geras: -"I appreciate the effort, it warms my heart knowing my partner would go to such an extent, but-" He pushes away the glass from your lips "There are different diets that have the same effect. I know you hate pineapple juice." "Geras, I love you." You choke a bit on your spit, hating the taste in your mouth. -He chuckles at your words "It's my pleasure." -Geras doesn't have to look at the future to know you'll never drink that ever again.

Bi-Han: -The scowl is permanent on his face, but this time he isn't angry. -There is a tiny voice in the back of his mind screaming "they would do anything for you, for your pleasure!" -Bi-Han basks on the idea that his partner is wrapped around his thick fingers. -If you don't make any mistakes during the day you'll receive your prize in the evening…

Kuai Liang: -Well he drank it with no problem so he doesn't mind if you do either. -May want to try that dumb thing of crossing glasses but he ends up being too forceful making juice go down more on your face than your mouth. -You laugh so Liang isn't worried. -"Your shirt is stained, it will be a mess if we don't clean it up. Let me help you remove it…" -The shirt was soon forgotten.

Tomas Vrbada: -"At my three we both drink. 1, 2, 3-" "W-Wait I have a better idea…" Look neither of you likes pineapple juice that much and this looks more like torture than anything else. -So…Tomas put a finger at the bottom of your glass, pushing it towards your lips to make you drink a sip. -And then he kisses you! Sucking your lips and therefore the juice out of your mouth. Tomas also spills his juice on your neck, licking it up while hands travel south. -Look he is doing it for the both of you! A new way to enjoy such a mid beverage! -The fact that he wanted to fuck you senseless since tomorrow morning is totally not correlated.

[xitsensunmoon]

Biting the Hand That Feeds au FAQ (Vampires + donor au)

Any general content warnings for bhtf au?

Yes. A normal amount of fnaf warnings, a normal amount of vampire warnings. For someone who doesn't know I elaborate... For vampire stuff, the most obvious ones are blood, hypnosis, bites, and animalistic behaviour. Less obvious - slightly suggestive themes. For fnaf - fnaf's usual violence, dark themes, a drop of gore and murders. The lore is uh. Very dark. I will try to decrease the amount of all of the cruelty but man. People who know, know how hard it will be. But I will tag everything properly so don't worry.

Is there a fic for your au?

No. And currently, I'm not even planning on writing one.

How do I find the story?

For now, we have two comics that are directly connected and one that doesn't have a specific place in the story but is about canonical lore.

[ 1 ] - [ 2 ] - [ x ]

In future, we will have more and I probably absolutely will forget to update this post so I recommend checking the tags. Here's the tag list

Tip: don't click the tag. Tumblr hides half of the results. Type it in the blog's search instead :)

Are the comics the only canonical thing about au?

No! I answer asks and draw a lot of doodles with bhtf au all the time and 90% of them are canon. You can, yet again, find everything in the tag list linked in the previous question.

Can I draw/write fan stuff for your au?

Yes, please!! I'm always happy to see fanart and fan writings and literally everything that you do! Just tag me when you post and use a fanart or fanwriting tag for au specifically so I don't miss it!

Can you include my characters in your story?

No, unfortunately, I cannot. The story is already written and I don't have any "space" for background characters either. Maybe it will change but currently, things are like this.

I asked a question with an interaction with my characters and I never got an answer, why?

I don't accept such requests. I'm not ready to spend my time drawing other people's characters for free(if I personally don't want to, of course)

Is there any limit to how many questions I can ask?

No, not at all! You can ask all you want just please make sure your question wasn't answered before. There is a big possibility I will just simply delete it if it was answered beforehand many times. Check the ask tag for it.

What about limitations? Any boundaries?

Please no questions about tickling🧍‍♀️ I got so many of those it already makes me uncomfortable. And for some reason, a lot of people send asks that include violence towards my characters and while I don't really feel uncomfortable with this I just idk what to answer and why are you even doing this lmao

What questions I should avoid?

Well, not really avoid but I will mention it anyway.

The things I have planned to draw right now:

- Sun and Moon and y/n's first meeting

- The creation of Sun&Moon

- Why S&M are sensitive to light and darkness

- How they hunt

So no need to ask me about these. I will show it, I promise.

What about sexual themes?

I understand that I post a lot of suggestive stuff and it may appear I allow such a thing but no.

You can create content with it tho, I don't mind for the most part. Just be ready that I may not reblog it, as my Tumblr is a SFW place. It's always 50/50.

Romantic themes?

I do draw some kisses and cuddles when I feel like it and you of course can send ideas for cute interactions but in the story we're very far away from it lol.

My question gets ignored even though I followed everything that you mentioned here. Why?

Answered in main FAQ.

Can I share the ideas for your au with you?

YES!!! Yes, yes and yes! I'm very open to that, like yes! The only thing that I definitely want to mention - you should expect that I actually can take your ideas and use them. Some people are protective of their ideas so if you're like this you probably should not share them with me :)

The information that you're using for your au is wrong.

Happens sometimes yeah. I know nothing about any medical stuff for y/n so I usually improvise. After all it's an au about robotic vampires man, this information is absolutely wrong. But! You're free to drop feedback/constructive criticism in my inbox!

Will be updated later

[seb-reads31]

Hello! Can i request a oneshot of angel dust x touch starved !male reader? More specifically they get together after angel notices that wow this guy is like the first dude in hell that hasn't been trying to seduce me or use my body and is simply interested to get to know me, later when they get to the kissing part reader almost fucks it all up due to him internally panicking extremely hard since he's never thought that someone would ever want to kiss him

Thanks!

Cautions - the dialog is gonna suck, maybe, we'll see lmao, sexual themes I mean come on it's Angel dust 😭, Valentino, THIS IS A MALE READER FIC, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1, cursing (it's hell), my shit dialog like usual 🤧 (someone give me tips I'm begging you),

Genre - fluff

Type - oneshot (?) I'm gonna be so honest I have no idea how this is gonna come out but I'll do my best 🙏

Comments- omg, dude, angel is my favorite so thank you 🤧🤧 I'm already in love with this ask lol. This is totally inspired by the song from Cinderella I have no shame. I also need to add to my rules lmao. Not because of you, you're doing great, drink some delicious water, eat some good food 😋 (that goes for everyone) but because I don't want anyone asking for specified readers for characters that don't swing that way canonically. It just hit me, and I need to add that lmao

So this is love~

Angel dust always had this facade about him, of his porn star persona. Everyone knows this, and only recently he's gotten out of it. After the war, after Husk breaking him out of his shell, he learned to be less of Angel dust, and more of Anthony.

Obviously, it took more than a few months, but he was feeling like himself, despite having to work for Valentino still. And, you've been helping him, whether you know it or not. Ever since you joined the project to become redeemed before the war, you both had become good friends.

And more recently, boyfriends..

Which shocked everyone to the core. Mostly Angel, to be honest. When he first started talking to you, he had done so with his facade. Using all sorts of innuendos, sneakily asking if you wanted to "get together for a little patty cake" in his room, and general flirting, much like he does did with Husk.

You always got too flustered to respond, but always knew to say no. But, you did try to move past his flirting and ask about him. Not his pornstar persona Angel Dust, no no no, you were asking about Anthony.

And you came to learn that Anthony was the sweetest man ever. While he was still a flirt, he enjoyed baking, romcoms, popsicles (grape flavored specifically), and making pasta! (Don't cancel me I beg of you 🙏)

And you got to know, AND fall in love with these different parts of him. Which includes the parts of him that enjoy non-sexual physical affection. The classic hand holding, hugs, kisses on the cheek or forehead, bunny kisses for sure, which is sending your touch starved ass into overdrive.

He enjoys how flushed your face looks after he gives you a forehead kiss anytime he sees you, or when he randomly grabs your hand to kiss it, looks you dead in the eyes and winks, then goes back to scrolling through his phone as if nothing happened.

However, you have never kissed someone on the lips before. Or had any sort of relationship with this much physical affection that you didn't know you needed, making you crave for more. Specifically, real kisses from Angel.

And you knew Angel would be more than happy to kiss you, but you wanted it to be special, so very special.

But.. Valentino called for Angel. He was having a bad day and needed a "pick me up."

And it just happened to be the exact same day you were going to ask Angel on the date, to ask him to kiss you.

You went looking for your gorgeous spider, finding him on the couch scrolling through his phone like usual. You knew that this was your opportunity to ask him, and off you went!

"Hey Angie, whatcha doing?" You hung on the back of the couch, smiling down at your boyfriend. "Not much, why? You want some attention?~" He teased, slightly patting his lap with one of his upper hands that were behind his head. "Kinda, I was wondering if you wanted to-" RINGGGG, his phone was going off. Angel panicked, seeing that it was his boss. He said a small apology before he jumped off of the couch and running to the corner of the room so you wouldn't hear Valentino's yelling.. as much. He kept nodding, muttering things you couldn't hear, but as soon as the call ended he deflated visibly.

"Shit.. sorry babes, but I gotta go, Val- he uh, needs a little help in the studio!" You knew he was lying, so you wouldn't worry, but you couldn't help it. Not to mention being upset, you had everything planned! "Nah, it's okay Angel, don't worry about it! I'll just.. tell you later."

He nodded then gave you a kiss on the cheek, hurrying out of the hotel to the studio he worked at.

It was the next day when Angel finally got back, hair messy, clothes out of place, and his tired eyes closed as he leaned against the doors, rubbing his face with his upper set of hands, and his lower set wrapped around his waist.

You were coming down from some breakfast, still in your pajamas when you say Angel again. "Angie?" He jumped, having not expected anyone to be up yet as it was Saturday, and Charlie let everyone have a free day from activities these days.

"O-oh! Hey babes, what're you doin up so early? Don't ya normally sleep in on Saturdays?" He was fidgety, nervous. This is how he usually acted after going to the studio, not to mention how much he avoided talking about it. "Yeah, I guess. I just couldn't sleep so I gave up and came down here. Did you want some food? I'm feeling like some bacon and eggs, or maybe biscuits and gravy." He was.. surprised by your nonchalant demeanor. He smiled though, grabbing your hand and kissing it softer than ever before. "Whatever you make sweet cheeks, I'll eat."

Your cheeks tinted pink ever so slightly, but you didn't feel nervous or overly flustered. Instead, you felt confident. So confident that you took the hand Angel wasn't holding and placed it on his round and soft cheek. He was also surprised, but leaned into your hand, whether or not he knew what you were thinking is a mystery. At least, it was until he started leaning down, eyes fluttering shut as he left just enough space between your lips and his to feel them ghost over the others.

You admired him a second longer, then closed your eyes, closing the distance between the two of you.

The kiss was short but sweet, you pulling away first, looking up at Angel with sweet doe eyes. Your first ever kiss was.. amazing, just like when you dreamed of it as a kid.

Angel gave you a dopey smile, then gave you a quick kiss on the nose, pulling away and tugging you towards the kitchen again. "Let's make some food, I'm starving ova' here!"

[youremyheaven]

DATING TIPS for all my girlies ✨

1. just because you agreed to go on a date with a man does not mean he's entitled to touch you anywhere

You don't have to kiss, hug or whatever

Don't feel pressured into thinking that "omg I'm on a date I HAVE to kiss him whether I want to or not" 🚫 a date is just two people meeting and talking, nothing more

2. You can be celibate and still date

People think dating = sex but you can meet as many people as you want and have a meal with them (or whatever u wanna do) and never sleep with them or even see them again lol

You don't have to date to have sex. You can date to meet and hang out with people

Obviously if you want to bang, you can.

3. If you want to hook up with people, be clear about that but be realistic

A lot of women get their feelings mixed up. You're not in love with this guy, you just enjoy being intimate with him. Being intimate is not the same as being in love. Men especially have no emotional attachments to sex , so be prepared to never see him again or for this to never lead to a regular fling or more. Sex does not promise anything. Be mature about it. A guy having sex with you is NOT him saying he wants to be with you.

4. Date multiple people at once

Again, for me this involves zero sex so I literally just mean going out to meet many different people. This makes me less attached or fixated upon any one guy bc I know that I have other people I can meet and spend time with.

Don't be desperate 🙏 they're just men 😭, if one goes, another will come 😭

5. Weed out the creepy men

If you go out with a guy and he's just sleazy and super sexual, then don't see him again. Don't spend 5 dates with someone who you should have cut off after 1 date 🙏 a lot of women have trouble saying no, so they just keep going out until it gets unbearable?? but you don't have to do that??? just cut him out

6. You deserve princess treatment bc it's actually just how any woman should be treated

It's normal for a guy to pick you up and drop you off

It's normal for him to pay

It's normal for him to give you gifts

I'm sure the other stuff like holding the door open, pulling the chair out, helping you cross etc is basic essential stuff that u guys are already familiar with

With the pick up and drop off thing, if he's a stranger that u met on a dating app, don't send him ur address and have him come to ur house or anything 😭😭 just meet somewhere close but far enough from your place and have him pick you up there/drop you off there. And that's only if you want to, I'm sure some of y'all are uncomfortable with the idea of a man picking you up etc which I get but I don't drive so I like it lmao ����🤪

One thing I tell them about dropping me like 1.5kms away from my house is that I don't want my neighbours to see or that people in my neighborhood will talk and this excuse (which is actually not an excuse at all) goes a long way in India 🤪

Just because the guy is paying doesn't mean you should order the most expensive things on the menu. Just get what you usually get. Don't seem eager to take advantage of someone's generosity. Act normal.

7. Don't go on a trip with him until you're completely comfortable with him and trust him !!!!!

Being alone with a guy in a different place is risky. So be 100% sure he's not a creep or an asshole before you go on trips.

I'm not a 50-50 girl so I expect the man to pay for everything but I understand why some of y'all would feel guilty about it 😔 but you're literally giving him your time, energy and company and if it was his idea to go on a trip, then it's his duty to take care of the expenses ✨

Trips ≠ having sex every minute

Obviously trips generally imply having sex but you're not obligated to turn into a sex machine. It's literally just the experience of being with someone and having a good time (sightseeing, eating, swimming etc) . Obviously this will also depend on the man you're with but like I said, don't travel with a guy you don't trust and know well enough ✨

Anywayyyysss I hope this was helpful 🫶

[kittievampire]

Hello! Found your page recently and kicked myself to send in due to mammon and beel brainrot .-.

Anon because the filth req makes me shy lmao

Some ideas for ya (f!mc)

- 69 with Beel, but he's gagged with cloth, poor baby can only use his hands and whatever bit of tongue he can get out

- Exhibitionism and teasing from Mams (Cockwarming at the casino? Fingering on The Fall dance floor? These sound like bad porn titles oops)

- Beel wants a subtle spread leg MC dessert under the table at dinnertime (big hungry demon can't stay quiet and the other brothers def notice)

Also - folks HC that Mams would be too posessive to share MC but imo he'd prioritize MC's pleasure above anything soOoo..

- Sub mammon tied up and only getting kisses/ hj from MC while Beel hits it from the back

- DP with greedyboi and hungryboi (who prefers pussy/ ass? Writer's choice!)

- Beel gets a meal *cough pussy*, while Mams gets a beej

- Overstim feat. both of them, greed and gluttony means orgasms til they're satisfied. Get wrecked mc.

I feel both of them have a praise kink? Both giving and receiving. But this might just be me wanting to give the good boys a treat

*This turned into a long brain dump sorry lol feel free to take or leave any prompts :') My brain is now free and I pass the rot to you

Hoooollllyyyyy

Damn

I just

Damn

Yes

YES

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Warnings: Smut, Switch!Fem!MC x Switch!Beelzebub x Switch!Mammon, Dacryphilia, Bondage, Overstim, Oral (f. receiving), Gagging, Concealed!Public Sex

Enjoy, you horny fucks.

"How you holding up, Beel?"

You gently stroked his large, hard cock with your small, soft hand, placing little kitten licks against the tip that was drooling with precum. His length was coated in your saliva as a result of you happily gagging and drooling all over it when it was in your mouth, as well as the stimulation you were getting from the Avatar of Gluttony's fingers.

You were so cruel.

When he tried to muffle a response through the red cloth that you'd shoved into his mouth, you couldn't help but giggle. You didn't even need to look at him, you could just tell that he was obscenely drooling at the sight of your cunt. You moaned, not only at the feeling of his thumb circling your clit while his fingers thrusted knuckles-deep into you, but also at the thought of how he looked right now.

Were his eyes blown out?

Did he look ready to pounce?

How was he still keeping himself together?

"D-Don't worry, baby, just a little while longer, I promise." You'd said that many times over, and yet, you still haven't given him the privilege of ravaging your pussy like the starving glutton he was. You felt him inch close to your opening and pressed your tongue and lips against his cock, sloppily kissing and drooling all over it once more. "The m-more you struggle, the more time it will take for you to taste me, Beel," You cooed, pushing yourself down against his fingers, earning a lewd squelch sound and for some of your juices to land on his face.

He groaned, and you could hear a low rumble in his stomach.

"Almost done, Beel, promise."

To be quite honest, talking to his opponents, playing poker, and trying to keep you quiet was a lot of work. You were planted on his lap, cock pushed past your folds and the tip snuggled against your cervix.

"Royal Flush, baby! Looks like ya better cough up!" Mammon exclaimed with a snarky grin on his face, bouncing his leg, which caused you to move up and down on his cock. You blushed, biting down on your bottom lip to hold back your noises.

Thankfully, his opponents were too drunk to notice your reaction to his movements. "G'dammit. Double or nothin'!" One of the demons said, to which Mammon threw his head back and cackled.

You almost let out a whine, knowing that one more game means more time that you'd have to sit there and warm his cock, nothing else. Mammon leaned forward, lips close to your ear so he could whisper ever so quietly, "Ya heard that, Treasure?" He gripped your thighs tightly, making sure you wouldn't move. "One more game, yeah? You can last for a while longer, can't ya?"

You shuddered.

Your pussy was aching to be thoroughly fucked, and at this point, you wouldn't care if he bent you over the table. But you didn't want to disobey him.

Your walls clenched around his cock and he grunted. He pecked your cheek. "Good girl," He cooed before turning back to face his opponents.

Beel completely caught you off-guard.

You honestly didn't expect him to grab your thighs from under the table and push them apart, nor did you expect for him to be under the table in the first place. You looked down, eyes wide in shock as he pulled down your panties. He looked up at you and smiled sweetly before attaching his lips to your cunt.

It was all happening way too fast, and you were at the table having dinner! With his brothers, no less!

You nearly choked as you felt him drag his tongue lazily over your folds, a shudder running down your spine as a dark blush formed on your face. You clenched your teeth to suppress a gasp, covering your mouth as your eyes darted over toward the brothers.

Thankfully, Mammon was causing a bit of a ruckus at the dinner table, so none of their eyes were on you at the moment.

Beel's grip on your thighs only tightened as you squirmed, shoving his tongue into your cunt, groaning softly as he got a taste of your walls. You muffled a whimper into your hand as you closed your eyes, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit to further stimulate you. He wanted the sweetness of your release, and he wanted it as soon as possible. The lewd slurping against your cunt, as well as your soft whimpers, only made it through your fuzzy head when you looked up to see six pairs of eyes staring you down.

I'm gonna go ahead and make the three-ways in a seperate part. I'll link it once it's posted, but I hope you liked it, anon!

Masterlist

[fountainpenguin]

Any tips for writing Cosmo? I'm struggling a bit with writing him and I'd thought I'd ask you since I enjoy your characterization of him (and while im here, who is the hardest fop character for you to write?)

Thanks, I'm glad you enjoy my take on Cosmo! He's got a pretty messed-up backstory in my works and I enjoy him :)

?? In the editor, my pics are arranged "a reasonable way" - next to each other, multiple in a line - but in the queue, they're... standalone, and thus a huge mess. I'm so sorry. I hope it doesn't post that way.

Talkin' Cosmo

This post talks a lot about Cosmo in my 'fics, and I have other Cosmo inspo resources at the bottom if you're interested. I'll give some brief notes before deep-diving into what I've done with him.

Cosmo has his clumsy moments, but he's a very good and protective dad! And that's very important to me.

"Mission Responsible," "For Emergencies Only," "Super Zero," "Farm Pit"

He's here for the fun AND the disciplining! He's on top of both! He's trying to equally protect Foop as much as Poof despite their past grievances! He took a laser for his son in "Playdate of Doom"!! D:

Also, Cosmo in "Formula For Disaster" - I will take a grenade or bullet for everyone in this room. Please let me take a bullet for you.

What is UP with Wanda's multi-season one-sided beef with Foop? lmao. He's always polite to her (Calling her Auntie Wanda compared to Uncle Idiot & tolerating her grabbing his collar and yelling in his face). Who would have beef with a baby who's always apologizing and saying thank you? sdklfjsdfj... (Kick his butt, Wanda) Cosmo's seemingly fine with him and even asked for Foop's business card, but Wanda does not like him. Foop brought Timmy some food he's proud he made and she put him to sleep "until his true love kisses him" without telling him that was the condition of the caramel apple she handed him, and then she told the camera that they were all going to live happily ever after... savage... Girl, that is not very "You have to learn how to forgive people after they try to destroy you" of you. Rules for thee, not for me... I love her, but that's really funny. Cosmo's pretty chill with him. I do not think Foop's relationship with Anti-Cosmo is particularly good. Like??? idk why I'm even asking what's up with her beef- It IS canonically Wanda who wants to kill Timmy's parents (S4's "Fairy Friends and Neighbors," plus she nearly kills Mrs. Crocker in S9's "Fairly Old Parent" and only stops because Timmy warns her he's "not going back to jail with her"), but... Wanda, he's a toddler.

Also, Cosmo even adjusts his body language sometimes because he's trying to copy and improve!! Love that for him!!")

"Mission Responsible"

Shout-out to Cosmo in "School of Crock" smiling and tearing up affectionately when he thinks Poof came out to him... regarding Poof "wanting to marry a cat") and he states that he's both accepting and proud of him. This is not what Poof said, but it's the thought that counts.

Cosmo, they could never make me listen to "He's a deadbeat dad" slander <3

He has his lapses in judgment, but he cares deeply about both Poof and Timmy and works hard to be a good parent to them (and later Chloe too), send post.

The other thing you need to know about Cosmo is that he is SALTY as ALL HECK. But... he plays it in a way that I'd call plausible deniability (considering the "dumb" persona he's set himself up with).

Ex: Cosmo has strong feelings about Timmy's parents (He goes into a panic in "Sooper Poof" because "Those two have no idea how to raise a child!" but he usually keeps that on the downlow. I said above that Cosmo seems chill with Foop, but it's worth noting that he spends an excessive amount of time "trying to get a sprite off Foop" at the end of "Spellementary School" by slamming him with a frying pan, and he says words that imply he's playing dumb about it... Interesting...

Cosmo's way of treating people is very different from Wanda grabbing Foop by the collar and screaming in his face, or cheerfully announcing her plan to put him in handcuffs, or when she slapped Juandissimo in the face with her purse in "Stupid Cupid," or (although I don't consider very-late-series Juandissimo to be an accurate portrayal of his character) when she shoved him in "Fairy Con" and snapped that if he didn't back off, she'd "kick him in the butt-issimo."

Wanda intimidates, presumably because Big Daddy raised her that way. Funnily enough, Mama Cosma also tends to use intimidating (Ex: Being outright mean to Wanda, kidnapping Wanda's dad) to the point that she seemingly spooks H.P. and Anti-Cosmo enough to make them back down when she takes Poof from them. but Timmy straight-up grabs her by the collar and yells in her face, and I think that's funny.

Words cannot explain how funny it is to me that neither Cosmo nor Anti-Cosmo are fans of direct confrontation... but Cosmo handles it by getting up close to bother you, pushing the envelope, and Anti-Cosmo will run away. Ex: "When Nerds Collide" - A.C. pours salt on Jorgen's shoes, tells Anti-Wanda he'll be back for her, then scampers off with a look of terror on his face. This man will only taunt you if you're locked away or he has back-up. He's very easily spooked.

Anti-Cosmo when one fairy (Jorgen) stands between him and his wife: PEACE OUT, BABE!

Cosmo when his family's in genuine danger:

Cosmo does not like head-on confrontation if it can be avoided, as he's much more into mind games or distraction tactics (like suggesting Jorgen scramble the fairies, or showing Jorgen a slideshow presentation to stall for time).

Anti-Cosmo always opts for running over fighting (Literally all his episodes except "Oddlympics," which is the only episode where no one threatens him directly unless you count Cupid poofing up angry cheetahs, which... fair) or else he just plain shuts down ("Fairly Odd Baby" & "Anti-Poof" are good examples).

LOVE his streak of looking confused in the background when he doesn't want to speak up. He's always a little nervous and I think it's funny. Even if you break into his house, he won't even yell at you. You can just do it...

Cosmo 🤝 Anti-Cosmo

Big "I don't know what I'm doing" energy

They just cover it with opposite personas... Anti-Cosmo pretends he knows everything and Cosmo pretends to know nothing.

One of my favorite scenes truly showcases Cosmo's saltiness. In "Jerk of All Trades," he offers to show Juandissimo to the room he can stay in (after Juandissimo loses his corporate housing)...

... and promptly throws him in the freezer. Hey, what??

Keep an eye out for scenes where Cosmo seems smug, because those tend to be the best examples of his plausible deniability / clever subtleties

The beef Cosmo and Juandissimo have with each other cracks me up... I like the OG canon that Juandissimo is terrified of Cosmo. In an early script for "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" (linked), he straight-up says Cosmo is the only one he's afraid of because he's a "warrior" and "a cunning and calculating foe." Like ??? Excuse me?

-> Part of this did make it into the final version with Juandissimo whining to Remy that he's "lucky to be alive" after Cosmo almost turned his hand into a fist! Why is Juandissimo always flaunting his muscles but then he'll whine that Cosmo spooks him... sdlkfj.

- My secret headcanon is that Juandissimo was once witness to Cosmo losing control (as Cosmo is confirmed in multiple episodes to be extremely powerful and dangerous) and he realized then and there that he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that fury. But nobody ever believes him that Cosmo is scary, so he just cringes and whines in the background.

"Bird Song" (Florence and the Machine) is one of my Cosmo inspo songs for that reason.

Also, I live for the scene in "Super Zero" where Cosmo is holding Chet Ubetcha (whom he was taking to find his car) while Chet reports about how Cosmo is a terrible superhero...

... so Cosmo straight-up says "There's your car" and drops him into a volcano. Incredible. No notes. Saltiest boy in the world. It plays rent-free in my head...

He can be salty for a variety of reasons, but it seems to flare up especially when he's being territorial of his family or space

[Very long post (11k words from here) - Click at own discretion]

Major Cloudlands AU story spoilers up to where we are in the 130 Prompts; if you've made it to "Sentry," you've seen it.

So... Let's get detailed!

[Basic overview, cnt'd from above; the spoiler bits come later]

Cosmo is a mama's boy! We know that pretty well from canon; it's one of his most obvious traits. However... he won't leave Wanda for her (as much as his mother antagonizes him).

- He's VERY loyal to Mama Cosma, to the point of sneaking her into his and Wanda's underwater castle in "Hassle in the Castle" and not telling Wanda about it.

- I think "Presto Change-O" and "Odd Squad" showcase his attachment well- He's reasonably concerned for her and very caring, but he's clearly living his own life at home.

- When he darts out on Timmy in the former episode, he first assures Timmy that when he and Wanda are back, they'll "all do something really fun and magical together." After Mama Cosma recovers from her 9-hour flu, he doesn't make Wanda wait around and takes the lead in getting them out of there (with a cheerful good-bye to his mom).

Context: My Cloudlands AU 'fics strive to be "as canon as possible," and I'm particularly proud of a scene I wrote in "I Just Live Here" where Foop reflects on family relations (and we see evidence of Cosmo and Wanda's relationship straining due to insults):

Once he came clean about his marriage to a damsel she couldn't stand, Mama Cosma couldn't keep her hands out of his life. She threads her son's mind with all sorts of poisoned commentary and doesn't seem to feel a smidgen of remorse. Like… wow. I lie, cheat, and manipulate people too, but when I try to imagine my own mother fighting tooth and nail to split me apart from my friends, that just seems unnecessarily cruel. It's weird. I know my auntie has done her best to tolerate it (holding her tongue and temper in a way that even I admire), but once when I was lurking around Timmy Turner's house before he came home from school, I heard she and my uncle break into a fight. Well… More of a scolding, really. After three or four minutes of listing her grievances against Mama Cosma, Auntie Wanda simply burst into tears. "I can't go to her house anymore. I can't keep going to these fancy lunches in Fairy World. But I worry all the time that if I don't go, you won't come back to me. Mama Cosma can really stick her hooks in you. I just don't feel like you respect me anymore, Cosmo, or like you believe living with me is an improvement over being a mama's boy and staying all day in your childhood bedroom. I need your support when she bears into me. Can you do that?" "I'll try to be better," was his response, stunned and shaky. I'd felt that way myself, curiosity getting the better of me as I floated as near to the window as I dared, my ear pressed against the wall. I could hear my uncle's fingers fiddling with his tie, wrapping the fabric around and around his wrist. "I don't know, Wanda… She's my mama. I know she can be a little harsh sometimes, but she's just getting a little old and cranky. She wouldn't do anything to really hurt me…" "She's been flinging insults at me for years." "… This is real? It's not all just some smart people test about sarcasm or irony or hidden underlying meanings? I'm not good at picking up clues, Wanda… You know that." Then, more quietly, "I'll try… It's just that sometimes I have a hard time keeping up with what's going on. I never feel like I'm in on the joke, and then when I finally am, it's like everyone thinks it isn't funny anymore. And what's more confusing is that sometimes, people say something I thought was kind of mean and everybody laughs, but then other times, everybody gets real quiet and uncomfortable. It's really hard for me to figure out the difference before the words are out of my mouth. And I don't always know there's something wrong unless it's explained to me with puppets or words… but I'll try. Can you keep being patient with me, even when I mess things up all over again?" "Every time, Cosmo. I love you… SO much…" Well. That had been an awkward thing to overhear. But I know why they had that discussion when they thought they were alone in private. I don't blame my auntie and uncle for trying to keep the trials of their marriage away from their son and two godkids. They're doing what they can to provide stability. My own parents could likely learn a thing or two from them. My father shouts a lot when he's upset, and my mother often floats there and takes it, not saying a word. I've overheard breaking plates and sometimes the frustrated pounding of a hand against the wall, but… Well.

I really like this scene because I think it's a good balance of Cosmo being insensitive, but at least somewhat justified in his confusion and misunderstanding ("But... you also say mean things to me" and/or "People think it's funny and I don't always get when it isn't"). It allows me to treat their bickering as canon while also showing them working things out in the background.

It's got Wanda standing up for herself and Cosmo wanting to be better... and I like my set-up of them talking where they know Timmy wouldn't hear, and Foop's just flat-out eavesdropping. Makes me laugh. Everyone here is spot-on, imo.

"Crocker of Gold" is an episode I like for Cosmo's misunderstandings- That's the one where he dresses as a leprechaun and Crocker catches him and demands gold, so Cosmo takes gold from real leprechauns and leaves them a note. They're upset with him, and both Timmy and Wanda are shocked he left a note. Cosmo claims it would've been rude not to. He generally is following a social script... it just might not match the circumstances he's in. I like to think that he skates through life trying to be polite, salty, under the radar, or playing dumb. Those things have gotten him this far in life, so he defaults to them. -> I showed a screenshot earlier of Cosmo changing his body language to match Wanda's. I don't think it's common for him to want to learn new things or change his behavior, but he's all-in at being a good dad and tends to mimic what he sees Wanda do. He follows role models. -> Jorgen is clearly his role model in "Cosmo Rules," since Cosmo also opts for a military get-up while defending Da Rules despite that not being required (Juandissimo didn't) -> In "Oh, Brother," Cosmo lists things that a brother can do for you- Drive a getaway car, lend you bail money - which he's probably saying because his older brother is a con artist. -> In "Something's Fishy," he even mimics Schnozmo's catchphrase: saying "Two words!" followed by something that's not two words. Hilariously, both of these happened in Season 5- Long before Schnozmo was introduced in Season 7. -> And by that logic, it's not surprising Cosmo can be rude and speak his mind a lot since Mama Cosma and Schnozmo are both known for that. Heck, Cosmo gets under Juandissimo's skin in "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" by mimicking him, and it was his own idea to do so.

Notably, in Poof's POV section of this same story, he says he and his dad visit Mama Cosma's without Wanda, and shares this:

When I'm with the Cosma side of my family, Mama Cosma lets me put my feet up on the furniture if I want to. I definitely can't do that at my granddad's because my nonna would have a fit. Mama Cosma doesn't care if I eat in the living room, even on her couch while we look at old scrapbooks of my dad and Uncle Schnozmo when they were kids (Plus old yearbooks of her and Papa Cosma… but my papa died when my dad was only two, so I never got to meet him). There's definitely… a weird vibe at Mama Cosma's prim and frilly little house, though. She loves my dad and he'll usually spend the whole visit with me when we go, but my own mama won't set foot anywhere near my grandmother's house anymore. When I was a baby I didn't really get it, but then I learned to read and figured out why. Mama Cosma frosts all her cookies so they say my mother's name with large Xs or strike symbols through them… or if not that, then symbols of raging fire. I feel really bad not eating her cookies because she always works so hard on them and they taste so good, but I feel like I'm betraying my mama when I do. My dad gets quiet and evasive about it, but… he just tells me not to worry. He says I can do what I want, and that if I don't want to eat them, he isn't going to force me. So there's that. I've seen my dad get confrontational before, but he's usually pretty tame around my grandma. I brought up the cookies to my mama once and she tersely said we'd "talk about it when I was older." So I asked Timmy while we were filling out coloring books and he told me everything. Mama Cosma can't stand my mama… Timmy says it's because my mom "took away her little boy" by marrying her, which is what led him to move out of her house and into a new place with my mom. It's weird. There's a nagging feeling in my gut that makes me suspect that's not the whole story. I'm not even sure I want the whole story, so… I guess I'll take my mama's word for it. She'll tell me "when I'm older."

They are brothers, your honor...

Mama Cosma is important to Cosmo. She may not like his wife, but she was also his sole caretaker for tens of thousands of years (knowing what we know about the war between Fairies and Anti-Fairies taking place 90k years ago, since "Balance of Flour" is its anniversary, and we know Cosmo and Wanda have only been together 10k years).

I like to think Cosmo wants Poof to know his grandma since Cosmo and Wanda were cut off for so long. Cosmo has a paternal grandpa on his canon family tree ("77 Secrets of The Fairly OddParents (Revealed)" - Grandpa Gonzo - but Cosmo lost his dad young and I don't think he's close to his grandfather.

Family's important to Wanda too - she's very close with her dad - and I think she and Cosmo both make sacrifices for each other's happiness and Poof's sake, even though it's hard on them both.

Again, I like to play Cosmo as a mama's boy trying to balance the complexities of his life... Allowing Wanda space away from his mother, but also letting Poof have the chance to meet his grandma, but also telling Poof that if he doesn't want to eat the I Hate Wanda cookies, he doesn't have to.

I also think it's worth nothing that Cosmo tried his dang hardest to be very positive about his pregnancy and childbirth.

- He had a lot of hormones messing with his mood (leading him to be confused when he batted Timmy into the basement while in bear form, then returned to fairy form and couldn't find him), but he was super grateful for his pregnancy (Handled his morning sickness without disgust & we see him apologize for inconveniencing Timmy several times). - He didn't even resent Timmy for snapping at him and telling him to get lost, which is nice since Cosmo has a history of petty grudges. During his contractions, he's the one telling Timmy and Wanda to remain calm and to enjoy "this beautiful moment." - Even while actively giving birth and clearly in a lot of pain, he insisted childbirth was a wonderful experience (fighting for a smile through his tears, his eyes red around the edges as he held and rubbed his belly... Doin' his BEST to get through it). - I think it's interesting how positive he was since sometimes he can be very pessimistic (Ex: "End of the Universe-ity" when he points out that "Fairy powers are totally lame and limited and will last 5 more years, tops" compared to Dark powers).

I have to showcase Cosmo's happy moment followed by /double blinks in confusion as his newborn is taken from him.

Every one of these faces is precious... He's a daddy! Thank goodness he has his precious baby! His hair is still extra ruffled from his stress and strain! He's in his hospital gown! His baby is his world! His godkid is delighted, and Cosmo is so happy to have his two boys in his life! ... oh no. help him.

Does Cosmo have his feet spread under the blankets the same way Peri, Anti-Cosmo, and Anti-Wanda all spread their feet in A New Wish to support heavy books? That's funny... He has a big baby in his lap...

I think... that covers my overview of How I Suggest Writing Cosmo In General:

- Mama's boy who's thoughtful, salty, a good dad, and doing his best to keep his marriage together because he loves his wife (although he does struggle to find the line for his teasing). He's not big on confrontation, though he'll stand up for his family when push comes to shove. - He does get jealous, but he and Wanda BOTH admit to having crushes outside their relationship; I don't think it's entirely fair to judge Cosmo for his fantasies without also judging Wanda, who's equally blatant in multiple episodes and has very questionable interests. I like to think they both know the other wouldn't really go for anyone else, though I do agree I'm not the biggest fan of these jokes. - He loves both Timmy and Poof. I didn't touch much on Timmy in this post since it's long and there are many good episodes of their dynamic (Timmy has a tendency to trust Cosmo and leap without looking). - Looks for role models to mimic. For better or worse, he grew up with Mama Cosma and Schnozmo, so he can be overbearing, sly, and rude. Loves his baby and his family very much. Very protective... Please let him take a grenade for them.

I think if I were to personally start my take on Cosmo from scratch, I'd ask this:

- What am I depicting Cosmo do? Who taught him this behavior? -> His mom was overprotective of him, so he probably read it in a book, got it from a kid at school, or picked it up form his mom or brother. - If it's none of these things... Why is he doing that action? (If he's older, maybe he got it from watching a godkid or reading a comic book). Is he following a social script from his culture? -> That's a good opportunity for worldbuilding. - He might've put in a lot of work, because something about the behavior is important to him (or was in his past). Since he's often associated with cars ("School's Out! The Musical" flashbacks, "Cosmonopoly," he's the car in "Odd Squad," his racecar bed in "Hassle In the Castle"), -> I've always imagined his car was the one thing he had that was truly his, and it represented freedom from his mom. After all, two episodes confirm he was driving in his younger years (and we know from "Transparents" that Wanda lacks experience)

These are good starting points if you're looking to develop a deep Cosmo portrayal with layers of backstory, though you can always keep it simple (especially for short one-shots).

I do think nailing down your interpretation of Cosmo's backstory is a critical aspect of deciding how you portray him in present day (as with any character). Everyone's vision of his story will be different, leading to their own take on Cosmo (and potentially Anti-Cosmo).

⭐ Here are some backstory jump-off points!

- "This Is Your Wish," "School's Out! The Musical," & "Cosmonopoly" are three episodes from the OG series episode covering the main story beats of Cosmo's backstory (Implied to have lost his dad young, grew up with his mom, forced into military school against his will, sunk Atlantis (9 separate times as of "Something's Fishy"), marrying Wanda). - "Double-Oh Schnozmo" debuts Cosmo's older brother, who clearly takes advantage of him. Schnozmo was off the radar enough that he didn't know Poof existed. Cosmo has great faith in and respect for his brother, and is heartbroken when he realizes Schnozmo took advantage of his trusting nature- There's a moment as he's talking through it that you can SEE the moment he breaks... That to me is quintessential Cosmo.

Cosmo, having just said "He must think I'm the biggest fool in the world!" and freezing up one beat before he hurls his ham into the forest and takes off to be alone... He knows. Their past, their fond memories... How much of it was real to Schnozmo? Does his brother even care for him? He splinters.

- Neither Cosmo's mom nor Wanda's dad knew their children were married until "Apartnership" and "Talkin' Trash" (respectively), though Blonda seemingly did in her debut. Cosmo implies at the end of "Talkin' Trash" that he wants to take over the Fairywinkle family business?? Also, it's heavily implied Big Daddy was going to let Cosmo stay with Wanda when Wanda moved home, and it's important to me...

- Speaking of family, Cosmo found out in "Cosmo Rules" he has von Strangle blood. In my canon, he trains to take over as Keeper of Da Rules after Jorgen after he leaves Timmy and Chloe (and it's probably something I'll carry for him to New Wish 'fics since he could be doing it in his godparent retirement era- especially since Jorgen's more mellow in New Wish). There's lots you can do with that!

- Anti-Cosmo was old enough to represent his people in a truce attempt during "Balance of Flour" (canonically 90k years pre-series, as it was the anniversary in that episode), heavily implying Cosmo and those older than him fought in this war.

- Cosmo claimed he never went to Spellementary School (in the episode of the same title), but in "Love Triangle," he confirms he had a role in the school play.

-> He becomes a "pageant parent" to Poof in this episode, hovering around him and making Poof run his lines over and over even though Poof is clearly uninterested (Wanda even using the words "You know Poof doesn't want to be in his school play"). He reminds me of his overbearing mama!

- "Truth or Cosmoquences" depicts Cosmo's high school years. Juandissimo claims he met Wanda during high school, they're confirmed to have dated, and Cosmo taunts Juandissimo in "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" by claiming he "lost his woman to an idiot."

-> Juandissimo is on good enough terms with Cosmo and Wanda that he attends, like, 5 different parties at their house in the OG series (including the baby shower Wanda's family didn't show up for) - I don't normally see people treat "Cosmonopoly" as canon, but I personally like it; I use the diner as the place Wanda started to fall for him since she wasn't very happy about being hit by his car. - Cosmo confirmed he designed his Cosmonopoly game to remind him of the day he met Wanda. He heavily implies he went to Pixie World to do his laundry that day (Pixie Woods is a location next to the laundromat). In my 'fics, I depict him sneaking out to get time for himself and using his laundry time to write his books. Funnily enough, Pixie World's laundromat was already established in my works even before this, because Rosencrantz works there. -> This potentially plays into the Pixies having Cosmo on their radar & Cosmo implying he met Sanderson sometime before "Pixies Inc." (i.e. he told Sanderson that if he "doesn't recognize him, it's probably the hat").

- Officially, Cosmo was designed with a 50s aesthetic. You could draw inspo by researching the 1950s. What hobbies or special events were popular?

- He's likely to have Megan Bacon trauma (a past godkid of his from "Past and the Furious"). Canonically, the past versions of Cosmo and Wanda are AWOL when Timmy looks for them in the past because they were hiding in her closet.

-> She's still alive (and fairly young) in present-day Dimmsdale, having gone on to open a notable restaurant seen in many episodes: the Cake 'N Bacon. In "Vicky Loses Her Icky," this restaurant was inexplicably across the street from Timmy's house.

-> Funnily enough, I don't think he really showed what I'd call "Vicky trauma" in the OG series, despite the fact she did mess with him. That's more of a New Wish thing, but I do think he had Megan trauma.

- In Season 5's "Hassle in the Castle," Cosmo and Wanda keep portraits of all their past godkids, including those they had poor relationships with (with these replicas of MaryAnn and Pierre specifically wanting revenge on them; MaryAnn claims they "deserted her."

Cosmo and Wanda instantly recognize MaryAnn when she's running around the castle, even though she killed Archduke Ferdinand and it's been a while since they've seen her. Even Cosmo? Who's not always the best with names? -> That said, we do know Cosmo snuck Mama Cosma into the castle in that episode and her door is down near the portraits. Him sneaking his mom in is a whole other can of worms. Also, they have Crocker's portrait in the Hall of Fame, not the Hall of Infamy!

- And if you want to go all the way back to Season 0, Cosmo and Wanda claim in "The Zappys" that their godparenting career is "speckled with failures," which Cosmo seems sad to admit.

- In both the OG series and New Wish, Cosmo and Wanda have separate beds. Cosmo's is a racecar:

Hilariously, this is one of the episodes Wanda blatantly tells Cosmo she's daydreaming about Juandissimo. For all the bickering and irritation and "the ol' ball and chain" and "naggy wife" jokes... I do think it's funny that they're both completely open about having crushes on other people. Totally fair if people have a strong dislike for that part of their characterization, but I can't help but respect the sheer confidence and closeness they have to admit those things and that it won't ruin their relationship.

-> We know from "Stupid Cupid" that Cosmo finds Juandissimo hitting on Wanda annoying, but lets him flirt with Wanda because he keeps sending her food, which Cosmo eats because Wanda doesn't want.

-> Shout out to Cosmo in "Truth or Cosmoquences" when Juandissimo hit on Wanda and Cosmo instantly broke character from his façade as Britney Britney's husband and shoved himself between them... and then had to back down when Juandissimo innocently asked why he was so huffy about him merely asking for a dance with his unmarried secretary 🥺

Season 6's "Wishy Washy" gave us teen Cosmo and Wanda, where we see Cosmo with braces and a skateboard. He confirms to Timmy that at this point in his life, Wanda wasn't his type (because "he likes 'em with a little more swirl in the curl.")

I've always thought it was funny that Cosmo likes to say "swirly" when he's absentminded, like "Portals are swirly." Man's always thinkin' 'bout swirls...

I drew him and teen Anti-Cosmo once!

- After Cosmo started disguising his nose with magic ("The Boy Who Would Be Queen"), but before Anti-Cosmo chose to do the same. - Specifically, Cosmo went through a rebellious teen phase (slipping away from his mom to go play & later pick up a job at the diner, planning to buy a car himself). - Anti-Cosmo became excessively devoted to my zodiac-themed Anti-Fairy culture (He's wearing a shirt depicting the Fae zodiac & wearing bracelets to symbolize being born in the year of Water).

It's very important to me that teen Cosmo and Wanda refused to play along with Timmy until he uses reverse psychology on them by insisting they're not meant for each other. And that SNAPS them to attention... At their core, they've always had their rebellious streaks. They do not like being bossed around.

Honestly, if you're only going to pick one thing to focus on... I think the most critical detail to consider when writing Cosmo and Wanda is that they eloped without telling their parents. If you think about how they left their lives of being coddled behind for each other, you can take that anywhere.

Anti-Cosmo's backstory is pretty unknown, but you can use parts of Anti-Cosmo to build a take on Cosmo as well.

For example, Anti-Cosmo's mother might be very harsh to him since Mama Cosma coddles Cosmo. Or, you could argue his mother's completely absent from his life since Cosmo's is always around. I like to think she really wanted Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda to get married. I personally play her as both physically abusive and emotionally overbearing. Cosmo crushed on Wanda for a long time, but I really enjoy slow burn A.C./A.W. as they slowly move from being annoyed by or disgusted with each other to admiring, respecting, and loving each other. I gave Anti-Cosmo bipolar disorder (due to his extremely high-energy moments in "When Nerds Collide" (where he rapidly flies in a circle 13 times in a row while still talking... yes, I went frame by frame and counted) and "Balance of Flour" (where Anti-Cosmo was unable to sit still while in disguise and revealed himself in front of everyone by running off and laughing). In his other episodes, he's in a mild state. -> Fun Fact: Technically, Anti-Cosmo has a magical parallel of bipolar rather than what humans have, and he treats it by rubbing Fairy pheromones on his face. In-universe, Fairies consider him to have divus displacement disorder (D3) and consider him "a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy's body" while Anti-Fairies believe he was born with his soul intertwined with a nature spirit's (whom he called Clarice in his youth). A.C. has a habit of drifting near H.P., who has strong-smelling pheromones. Anyway... My Cosmo has depression - especially postpartum depression - as a parallel. He struggles with a lot of personal issues, especially regarding his magical strength (Ex: turning his dad into a fly as a baby, leading his dad to never be seen again in the series).

Here are detailed examples from the backstory I gave my Cosmo because... I like talking about him:

Cloudlands AU Cosmo - #ridspoilers

Major spoilers up to the end of where we currently are in the 130 Prompts; if you've made it to "Sentry," you've seen it

I treat "77 Secrets of the Fairly OddParents (Revealed)" as canon, meaning Cosmo's deepest secret - that he's the author of Astrophysics For Morons and several other books - is something he has ISSUES telling people about... which I tie into "Wishology"'s canon of portraying stars as ancient Fairies.

Yeah... Cosmo writing stuff that his culture hates does not go well for him in my work :'D

Cosmo struggles a lot with his love of books, hence why this is a secret for him. In Cloudlands AU canon, Fairies tend to have a brawn over brains culture and Anti-Fairies a brains over brawn one; Mama Cosma sent him to military school against his will to try to push him towards the brawn culture.

During / after the war with the Anti-Fairies ("Balance of Flour"), Fairies weren't exactly charmed by brains or Anti-Fairy culture sympathizers, and Cosmo - who used to write political commentaries and kids' books that broke culture down in easy to understand ways - became an instant target, leading us to this scene:

"Let them come for me." Cosmo raised the point of his wand against his temple. "These memories are all that I have left. Look, it's simple. You don't want my insights on politics and religion leaking any further into the world, and I don't want you in my life ever again. So if you take one step forward, I'll blast them out here and now. You can tell Adelinda that you were left to scrape my time keys off the floor." "So I am the bad guy now? We've opened the castle for refugees like you! Art, history, all the science you could ask for… The charts, the maps!" Cosmo bobbed gently up and down, but otherwise didn't move. He didn't even blink, the wand still pressed thumb-deep into his head. "Yeah, right! You've von Strangled every scrap of success I ever had out of my hands. Why would this be any different?" A scowling Jorgen shifted forward then and Cosmo threw out a hand. "No further! Or I'll wipe my memories here and now!" Jorgen braced his staff against a jutting piece of the wall, leaning beside it with folded arms. "The revolutionaries are out there hunting for those who threaten society with radical ideas, Cosmo. Your stories of gas balls and tongue lashes towards the Council are the reason you've landed in their sights. You can burn your books, but erasing private memories hurts no one but yourself. Plus, I can still take you to the Pink Castle anyway. It seems a very foolish trade you are fighting to make." Cosmo narrowed his eyes. "But when you get me behind those walls, you're going to scramble my mind up anyway, right? Because you work for the Fairy Council? At least if I blast myself, then I don't let you get to have the satisfaction…"

"Repeat"

After this point, Cosmo started erasing his memories on the regular and became a lot more unstable and unhappy with himself.

That said, I do think the war helped give him a purpose, lifting him a bit from the depression of his younger years over missing his father. He finally felt like he had something worth fighting for and was making up for the harm he caused, now out there protecting his people.

It's around this point in time that Cosmo - looking for a new career and now a smidgen more confident in himself (and looking for a new passion in life) - switched to the godparenting major, where he ended up doing a trial program with Wanda for Erg.

Erg being the godkid they claimed to have 50k years ago in an episode where they're celebrating their 10k years of being godparents, implying Erg was a special one-off case... Checks out since 50k years ago would've been well before they were married ("The Past and the Furious")

Cosmo grew increasingly infatuated with Wanda from here on out, and learning to be a godparent also kicked off his love for children.

I like to play Wanda as "better with" wish-themed playtime and adventures while little kids tend to think of Cosmo as "more fun" when they're playing with toys. He's pretty imaginative. I like to think Wanda's humor is high-brow and flies over little kid heads (Depending on their age). One of my favorite headcanons is that Cosmo owns a lot of toys and likes to leave one with each godkid. Probably a bunch of toys his mom gave him since she coddled and fawned over him so much, so he's rehoming them.

So /claps hands. We've set Cloudlands AU Cosmo up to want a baby. Can u see where this is going?

I personally treat the baby H.P. and Anti-Cosmo raised as 100% canon. I made him the counterpart of the candle model!

Here's some 2018 art, though I need to redraw / redesign now that my art skills have improved. Btw, I saw someone say they were sad this screenshot was fake, but :'D... I assure you, it's 100% real. It's in Jorgen's presentation of "Fairly Odd Baby" when he specifically uses the word "raised" to speak of Anti-Fairies and Pixies with children, and he shows this photo plus a flashing sign labeling H.P. specifically as "Bad," implying the kid has a connection to Anti-Cosmo in species, but H.P. was the real threat. I don't know why they drew H.P. with those glasses or added shading either, but it's real.

Let's talk Westley first! If you remember he's living with Blonda and showed up in "I Just Live Here..." congratulations! Poof slept in his room when he stayed with his Fairywinkle family for spring break that year.

He leans in to kiss me on both cheeks. I blink up at him, wide-eyed, and he pats my shoulder instead of ruffling my hair. Even though I have really, really ruffle-able purple hair, so I'm kind of glad he refrained (I don't like anyone but my parents and Timmy touching my hair, except I sometimes let Gary do it, and I really hate combing out the tangles). "Go back to sleep, cuginetto. We can talk more in the morning."

He was raised by Jorgen and Binky, specifically (playing into "Fairly Odd Baby" canon where Jorgen tries to take Poof from Cosmo and Wanda, telling them he'll raise him and will only let them visit him for one day every other millennium, plus Jorgen shows himself holding a baby in his slideshow presentation).

Binky dropped out of godparenting to be a stay-at-home caretaker for him on Jorgen's behalf.

Reminder: Binky and Jorgen are a gyne-drone pair. They don't live together, but they're basically in a QPR The Origin of the Pixies chapter "Inner Workings" is a good peek at their dynamic (back in the day), though H.P. refers to Binky by his surname (Abdul).

Westley is extremely bitter towards his bio parents and, while he respects Binky, doesn't particularly like him or Jorgen (or Cupid) as all three played a part in removing his chance at "a real family." He cut ties and changed his family name to Periwinkle.

AKA, before Poof was born, Westley went into modeling in Fairywood and Blonda took him under her wing. Blonda considers him a nephew

Poof looks up to him a lot names things after Westley - notably his egg baby in "Two and a Half Babies" - and that was canon in my work for years before A New Wish, sdkflj...

If I had a nickel for everyone in this family who changed their name to Periwinkle...

Frayed Knots is a 'fic about how Anti-Cosmo got to the point that he ended up with Talon - Westley's anti-fairy counterpart - and why H.P. is the one helping him raise him... Short answer? Anti-Cosmo wrecked his life for that child and a lot of people have issues with him because of it :'D But H.P. took him in...

Talon sneak peeks from late Frayed Knots!

“Yep. Talon, your dad’s out of it. Which is perfect, because that means I can do this.” H.P. clamped his hands around Talon’s waist and tossed him into the air. Talon squealed with surprise and apparent delight, and H.P. caught him when he came back down. “You are adorable. Oh yes you are, my Cú Chulainn. Yes you are.” “Again!” Talon cheered. “Nope.” There was a pat like H.P. placing small anti-fairy feet back on the floor. “One free sample per pup. If you want more services, you have to pay for them.” “Again!” H.P. sighed good-naturedly. “All right. One more time, Cú Chulainn. But, only if I can trust you to keep this our little secret.” “No! I’m going to brag to all the others that you tossed me twice. I had my fingers crossed about the promise.” “Oh, you’ve got me there,” H.P. told him in monotone. He rustled Talon’s hair with his huge hand. “Go play.” Talon trotted away, laughing. I clenched my claws deeper in the ruffled fabric. He never laughed for me like that.

&

Talon stomped his foot. “I don’t wanna go back with you! I want to stay here with my other dad!” H.P. and I looked at each other. Then he dropped his attention to Talon again, bending on one knee. “Talon, you’re adopted.” “Really,” I cried, “you’re starting with that?”

Also, shout-out to older Talon in Pink and Gray-

"I hate the inheritance traditions!" Talon's wings exploded behind him, flapping wildly. "It's not fair! You weren't even supposed to become High Count after Anti-Bryndin. Everyone only agreed to let you lead the Anti-Fairies because you have green eyes, but when it's me, your son, who should inherit after you, they're not going to listen, are they? They're not! You don't want me to be your heir! You only keep me around because I'm the only anti-fairy who's been born since the fairy baby mandate cut off all your other options. Or else you'd just dump me on H.P. forever so you don't have to look at me anymore and think about all your old mistakes. You want another kid because I was born with red eyes like some kind of commoner!" "Talon, enough." Anti-Cosmo swept his arm to the side. "You'll wake the hotel. Worshipers have traveled a long way to visit the Water Temple." "Look at me! Look me in these eyes and tell me it's not true!" Anti-Cosmo clenched his teeth, but didn't glance away. "I said, that's enough now. I broke the law to give you a healthy life, child. One would think you'd respect me for that." "The people," Talon snarled, stabbing a claw vaguely in the direction of Anti-Fairy World, "should accept me as your heir, no matter what color my eyes are." "I don't disagree, lad, and I don't intend to argue with you. However, you must realize that it isn't within my power to alter the expectations of an entire society." He stepped forward, fur bristling. "Bet the gossip's true! Bet you were unfaithful. Bet you had me with some hired anti-will o' the wisp for a handful of coins. Is that where I came from? Are you even my real father? Do you ever plan to tell me anything?" Anti-Cosmo tightened his grip on his wand, but regarded the furious anti-fairy with cool collection. His hand twitched, but he kept his arm low. "I will not argue with you, Talon, and I will not succumb to your goading. I am your father, Anti-Wanda is your mother, and despite your legitimacy, you did not inherit our spirit-blessed eyes. That is all you need to know, apart from the fact that if you do not hold your tongue, you will lose your inheritance tonight. Do not try my patience further." Talon simmered a moment more, then swung around and stalked away down the hall. "Telford Anti-Westley Anti-Lunifly. You have yet to be dismissed. Don't you dare turn your back on your High Count while he's trying to converse with you!" "'Trying,'" Talon said, and kept walking.

& "Health Bars"-

"What did you bring me?" Talon asks, looking up. Anti-Cosmo's eyebrows shoot into his hair. "'Bring you?' Why, I wasn't even aware you would be here tonight." Talon sticks out his tongue. "H.P. always brings me stuff when I see him." "True," I acknowledge. In my head, Anti-Cosmo's hitpoints drop into yellow. Anti-Cosmo gives the younger anti-fairy a pitying look. "Then he's spoiled you into being a selfish little brat, I'm afraid." And to me, narrow-eyed, "Thanks for that, actually." "Whoa. Hey. It's not my fault you deprive him of modern technology when he goes to stay in Anti-Fairy World. We agreed from the start: If you want to raise him Zodii, then I get to expose him to pop culture. Go ahead– ask him about memes. I've trained him well."

I just love him and my messy 'fic drama so much... Talon, my beloved.

Because this is a notable part of Anti-Cosmo's backstory - especially the conflict Anti-Cosmo and Talon have - it played into me giving Cosmo that aforementioned dream of wanting kids, which led me to scenes like:

"So, when can I meet Nixie?" Saffron frowned in the rear-view mirror. "Oh, did I not send the letter? You sounded like you'd read it over the call. You seemed fine with it." "L… letter?" "I changed my mind about adopting her out. Jorgen said he'd waive my file at the station if I trade her to him instead of you." He slammed so hard on the brakes, Saffron's glossy lip tube flew past the windshield.

"Repeat" - Cosmo's failed attempt to bring Nixie into his life... Nonetheless, he didn't give up

So... I found an episode with an interesting detail, and I really latched onto it and built my images of Anti-Cosmo and Cosmo around it. Simple enough start!

I lucked out in finding something I thought was super interesting to delve into (especially at a time no one else in the fandom had mentioned it... or at least not in 'fics tagged H.P., because I think I read all those and most if not all of the Anti-Cosmo ones available back then, at least on the sites I used, haha).

Even though I don't consider "The Fairy Beginning" canon as a whole (due to it violating too much established canon), it's still canon in my works that Cosmo stayed with his aunt and uncle for a while and lived under their stairs, which is... hoo boy.

"No, I didn't! I didn't do anything wrong!" Cosmo tightened his arms around Westley's back, beneath the baby's tiny fluttering wings. "It's not me or my fault, okay? It's just… just… Look, it wasn't supposed to happen this way!" Holding babies left him breathless, and Cosmo tried to shift his weight to hold him a little better. Westley kicked him in the chest. "I know I can't keep him, but you can't let Jorgen take him away." "Oh heavens, that's a real baby. There is a fairy baby in my house right now. I'm gonna be sick." Blonda floated backwards, one hand on her stomach and one on her mouth. The sleeve of her robe slid down to her elbow, dangling like a fish fin. She turned a full circle, pacing in the air, then swept back and grabbed him by the shoulders. "The A.B.B.'s been out for weeks. How hasn't Jorgen found you yet? Tell me you haven't been on the run alone. At least say you have another friend in the world besides my sister and me." "O-okay… Uh, we haven't been by ourselves all this time. Is that the right answer?" Blonda leaned her head back against the whitewashed wall. "Oh, Darkness devour me…" Cosmo bit his lip. "We were staying under my aunt and uncle's stairs for a while, b-but I know they're getting close…" As the breathing lines clenched up around his throat, his fingers curled into the yellow towel a little tighter. "Please, Blonda… Can we stay? And can you help me find milk without showing my face at a store? I ran out, and Jorgen wants to take him away so he can teach him to fight and bully everyone. I can't watch that happen! And… and Cupid will just throw him in a cage for the rest of his life. And I'm scared! If Jorgen takes Westley to his fort, then Anti-Cosmo will waltz straight in and waltz out with him again. A-and babies can't waltz!" "What… Where did you even find…? Babies are illegal in our subspecies without Eros consent. And the Eroses never consent outside the exhibit stock. Did you break into the Nest and take one of their kids?" "Blonda, I… couldn't just let them…"

"Repeat"

And from there, we get this art of Cosmo, Westley, and Nixie:

And this bit from "Told You So"-

"He went for milk," Florensa repeated as though in a daze. Sanderson… sighed. He replaced the silk cover on his crystal and dropped his eyes to his desk. Had his elbows always been this pointy? His arms looked thin and scrawny, barely able to hold his weight. He leaned against them anyway and brought his eyes to hers again. "Forgive me for the small talk. My question may be useful to you… Has your son experienced a major drop in energy? An increase in time spent sleeping? A lack of interest in his usual favored activities? I can't imagine he's in the most whimsical of moods right now." "How do you mean?" "Well… Last time I saw him was at Fairy Con. He floated on sagging wings, looking distressed out of his mind. H.P. had me report it. Even for a fairy, I noticed he expressed considerable emotion during Jorgen's speech. Dm. Cosma, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I think I heard your son ask if he could go back on forget-a-cin. Is this true? Pardon me if I am insensitive with this subject, but… How is he handling the separation from his kids?" There it was… cold and dark between them, like a smooth stone dropped into an unmoving pond. Florensa's blue eyes sharpened like snakeupine quills. "Those… those LEECHES under Jorgen's wing are not my son's children! That miserable SHREW forced responsibility on my precious boy! Oh, I'll wring his little blue NECK until he turns purple from it all!" Sanderson stared blankly back at her, too tired to argue. Now would have been a really good time to have his shades. Could she read his thoughts from his eyes? He tried again. "Has Cosmo spoken lately about the kids? I seem to remember he tried to disappear after Westley was born. Fairy World put out an A.B.B. It wouldn't surprise me if he still thinks about them sometimes. Perhaps he went looking for them. Or went to challenge Jorgen." If Jorgen had crushed him into oblivion with one of his mighty fists, that too might explain the shattered wand. Florensa's wings bristled up. "We don't talk about the kids at home," she snapped. "It wouldn't be good for his health! My son is… He's… he's… Well, he's been under so much stress in the workplace! You know how it is, particularly at his age. I just hope he's not been hurt." Hurt? Sanderson grimaced. It was all too easy to imagine Cosmo flattened into pancake form if he set foot anywhere near Westley or Phoenix. The pair were still the talk of Fairy World to this day. Two common fairy babies… the youngest of their subspecies. The first ones born in 370,000 years. They had to be 40 millennia by now. Jorgen bragged about them at every social opportunity, like he'd finally filled a void deep inside him that godchildren never could. And Anti-Cosmo, of course… Well, Anti-Cosmo had been elated with how things turned out. That was sarcasm. Ha ha. Ha ha. But still true, to some degree. Emotions can be hilarious. From the way he fawned over Anti-Westley (Well… "Talon") with his hands clasped against his cheek, you wouldn't think Anti-Fairy World's bachelor king actually lost his first wife over the whole affair. Or his daughters, for that matter… Anti-Saffron had taken both Anti-Miranda and Anti-Phoenix when she left him. As far as the media could guess, the High Count lived by gritting his fangs to bear it.

Aaaaaaaand this plotline in 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash! :')

"A firstborn will always have more magic than their siblings. Up to two layers of magic can wrap themselves around the core. If the child is the father's firstborn, they'll receive one extra layer, and if the child is their mother's, they'll receive two." Poof's head snaps up like a spring. His hand jolts after it. "But it's okay if they don't… right?" His question seems to catch Serena off guard. "Uh. Well, there's nothing wrong with not having the layers. Younger siblings can be equally as healthy as the firstborn. The extra magic is simply a small benefit the first receives." "Um, what happens if you're a firstborn who doesn't have extra core layers?" "Then that person isn't actually a firstborn." "… What? Are there any exceptions?" "To the firstborn bonus? I don't believe there are any. At least, I've never heard of one." Denzel keeps his head low, scratching out notes, until the silence between the two fairies drags on way too long. Uhh… He looks up again. Poof stares back at his grandmother, shock bleeding his face out to white. She hovers at the front of the room wearing the same look of confusion that Denzel himself might have shown to dancing chipmunks on a ceiling fan. "That's… not true," Poof croaks back. His voice wavers on a string. He drops his head to the desk, wrapping his stubby arms around his head. Um.

"Looking Back"

"Am I adopted?" Poof blurted, not answering the actual question. Auntie Wanda's brows shot off her head. She looked at Cosmo. Cosmo stared back at her, wide-eyed and frozen

&

And he laughed, throwing his arms out too the side. "Poof, do you even hear yourself? Or did you just flunk anatomy class? Only firstborns get extra core layers." "… Aren't we firstborns?" "Do… do you not know?" The mental damage Poof took after those words slammed straight into his brain a second later. Foop flinched back, gripping his hair in one fist. Poof's heartbeat spiked- hot, fast, and undeniable, because a cold cloud crashed into Foop's chest like a clenching fist. A spark of purple fire flared like a spooked rabbit in the depths of Poof's eyes. He's not joking. "Has your dad not talked to you about this?" Gary made an attempt to suggest they call it quits for the day. Foop only half heard him. "Poof," he spluttered, "what? You know my Vatajasa name is Fry-sün d'ichord. Did you think I use the title 'second child; second son' ironically!?"

"Sentry"

Finley was just, like… taunting me and saying that I'm adopted." The memory flares tears in my eyes. I sniff, sort of pathetically, and wipe my eyes on the back of my hand. "But I'm not… I'm a Cosma and a Fairywinkle." "Adopted," Big Daddy repeats. He flicks his eyes from my crown to shoes. They coast along the freckles down my sides. He shakes his head then. Firm. "You wouldn't have the gene for lateral spots if you weren't a Fairywinkle. Your pheromones match the family's too. Cherry almond. Even if yours are underdeveloped, I can sniff that on you from here. Forget about it, Poof… There's no doubt about it. My little cannoli Wanda is your mother, as sure as I'm your granddaddy."

"I Just Live Here"

😬 ... Yeaaaaaaah...... I've been planning this since 2016.

So, hmm.. I wonder why I drew this during my music meme years ago...

Yeah... Yeeeeeeaaaaah... That's rough, buddy.

Also, no matter the universe, Anti-Cosmo is notoriously bad at paying child support and consistently has a rougher relationship with Talon than H.P. does :'D

I also want to point out that when you're introducing characters and major plot points, take the time to consider how they fit into the world and play off other characters! Talon and Westley influence a ton of people, including Anti-Cosmo, H.P., Anti-Wanda, Cosmo, Wanda, Poof, Foop, Blonda, Big Daddy, Jorgen, Binky, Cupid, Sanderson, each other... etc. And all this from two photos of two characters who were onscreen for mere seconds, several seasons apart, and don't have speaking lines or even animation...

The big follow-up & "tying loose ends" 'fic for Poof's "Am I adopted?" anxiety is the upcoming Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Pixies - named after a song Wanda wrote, according to "77 Secrets of The Fairly OddParents (Revealed)."

It's Poof POV and parallels Foop's war POV in "You'll Never Know." I'm looking forward to posting it, but it's massive and - despite everything this post covers - still contains a lot of major Frayed Knots spoilers related to Cosmo's trauma that we didn't even touch on here, so... it's my baby. Huge personal favorite, though <3

The night before you sent this Ask, I actually sketched potential animatic panels for the Big Fish song "Showdown," even though I don't plan to make an actual animatic. It's been on my Poof inspo playlist for YEARS and was haunting me...

btw, if you like this song... I'm not telling you to do anything, but I AM telling you the songs for this musical regularly disappear from YouTube and have been on and off for many years

Cosmo Wrap-Up

So... [inhales].

When it comes to writing a fan portrayal of a character, there's no replacing doing your own personal study, whatever that means to you - watching episodes, reading 'fics, studying other people's analyses - as you strain out your own version of him.

I think backstory is a really good jumping point for deciding what kinds of things you want to do with Cosmo, and how it ties into how he acts in canon.

Obviously, there's a lot going on in Cloud!Cosmo's backstory... and this despite the fact he's one of the characters I rarely put onscreen. He's one of those "characters who haunt the narrative" for me.

... I barely touched on Nixie drama in this post, but if you can guess where THAT'S going... congratulations! It's been heavily foreshadowed in my lore since the start and is super messed-up :'D.

Frayed Knots, my cruel beloved...

My Cosmo is super specific, and the many intricate layers at play here definitely influence how I write him. Which is a fantastic jumping off point for me if I ever get stuck.

Key points that come from the backstory I've given him include:

- Cosmo growing up without a lot of life experience, so he looks to others for advice. This can easily lead him to trouble if he follows the wrong crowd. - Tension between Cosmo and Mama Cosma, especially in regards to her being annoyed at Wanda and wanting Cosmo to marry someone who's "better for him" - Cosmo doesn't give up easily & is willing to take matters into his own hands. However, he does have his breaking point and massive amounts of trauma and anxiety, which he covers by wiping memories from his head - Cosmo is overprotective of his car because it's one of the only things in his life that's exclusively his and which he has control over (Setting us up for drama in "Repeat" when Poof panics about how he crashed the car... which spirals Poof into his vegan lifestyle, where he punishes himself by cutting meat from his diet despite being a carnivore, so that's a whole thing) - Cosmo is smart in a very specific way related to the stars, cars, energy, electricity, and the Fairy baby ban history... things that aren't necessarily common for godkids to ask about. Also, some random smarts leak through his fractured memories - Cosmo struggling with self-hatred because "he used to be smarter" and gets upset he can't remember things well - Cosmo in hiding (Ex: Only pays with cash to avoid being traced; I have an upcoming scene where he starts panicking about how he's slow and holding up the line and Poof steps in to help) - Cosmo's memory problems (Regularly on forget-a-cin) - Cosmo being clingy towards Wanda and/or struggling to make friends and trust others (especially in academia) - Cosmo's postpartum depression (Struggles with snappiness, loneliness, and fear that Poof doesn't like him) - Cosmo and Wanda having their second kid (Dusty) very early compared to the usual distance between siblings in Fairy society - Cosmo desperate to soak up time with his kids / godkids (Leading him to grant Timmy's secret wish to freeze time - Canon event) - Cosmo and Wanda being really anxious about Poof's relationship with Goldie, who comes from a species known for "tempting drakes away from their parents to join harems" (à la "Opinion" when they try to discourage Poof from dating her) -> And the change of heart Cosmo and Wanda have later in "All I Ever Wanted" when they tell Poof they support him and don't want him to elope and cut them from his life like they cut their parents. -> And Cosmo being extremely "dad" and gentle with Poof in that piece when Poof has his anxiety attack - Cosmo will absolutely have a breakdown if you ask him directly about Westley or Nixie, which is why he and Wanda are waiting until Poof is older to bring it up.

Actually, here's a scene about that last one!

“My friends said I’m not a firstborn because I don’t have the extra magic layers around my core. Am I really your first kid?” My dad screamed. No words, just a scream. I jerked back, and he whirled around and slammed his hand into the wall. It slid down, and he went with it in a shaking mess on the floor. Mom took my elbow and guided me from the room, promising we’d talk later after she made sure he was all right. I hovered in the next room, hands clapped to my mouth, not sure what to do. That evening, Mama came to find me. “Poof-” “I don’t want to know,” I blurted, plugging my ears. I clenched my eyes shut. “Just tell me I’m a weirdo who was born without the extra layers. If I’m not your first, I don’t want to know.”

Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Pixies

:'D ...

[Laughs in Frayed Knots] - Cosmo honey, you've got a big storm comin'...

For anyone wanting to write Cosmo, I suggest finding some moments from the show (OG series, New Wish, whatever) that you find interesting and want to delve into (or that you use to define your personal view of Cosmo- Who he is; what you like about him).

You might end up wanting to write a backstory 'fic, and if you don't, at least you'll have a good idea of what you envision his story being like, which can shape creative interpretation of his character.

A loose outline, thought web, or note sheet might be helpful- I usually make Tumblr posts or write one-shots to work through my thoughts.

Obviously, a lot of the stuff I listed above are things the series never delves into. I like the freedom of making stuff up for Cosmo, exploring what makes him tick in my own way, but there's nothing wrong with keeping it simple like "Well, my Cosmo was a small town kid who didn't really leave home until he fell in with Wanda."

Whatever you do, I'm sure it'll be interesting! Feel free to tag me when you post your 'fic so I can check it out <3

Other Cosmo writing resources:

- My brief bio of Cosmo

- Let's Talk Cosmo - Early character study

- My "Cosmo can be a tricky character to write" video clips + my analysis of them (I always meant to do one of these for other characters, but never got around to it~)

- Personal analysis on Cosmo's depression - I write Anti-Cosmo with bipolar disorder and this has been an interesting parallel.

-> Cosmo's postpartum depression is particularly fun for me and was glimpsed in "Repeat" flashbacks where he was hiding emotions from Wanda & working through his "Why would the baby like me if I don't even like me?" struggles. I always wanted to make its own 'fic about it, but it was very depressing, so I stopped :'D whodathunk...

- I like this scene in "I Dream of Cosmo" where Cosmo is trying to pull the reins in on Timmy's Dad :)

- I also like this scene from "Desperate Without Housewives," which takes place in Season 9 (after Jorgen stops wiping Crocker's memories in Season 7*. In this scene, now that Crocker's memory isn't wiped anymore, Cosmo blatantly outs himself as a fairy and Crocker just :|

* very heavily implied; my interpretation of the ending is that Jorgen actively exposed Crocker's relatives to Fairies to power the Big Wand and why would he erase Crocker's memory if he's doing that, but it's not technically confirmed... However, the episodes after this do seem to depict Crocker extremely sure of Timmy's fairies, no longer theorizing, and Kevin... also seems to have some memory immunity? Unclear, but if Cosmo was acting Like That in "Chip Off the Old Crock" because he was trying to pull the same joke with Kevin he pulled with Denzel, that's flippin' hilarious. But Timmy's Dad doesn't know and I like to think Crocker is covering for Cosmo in front of him in this scene when he nervously laughs Cosmo's comment off

Characters I Find Tricky to Write

I'll try to keep this section short since this post got out of hand, but thanks for asking!

I do think Cosmo is very hard to write. I'd probably say he's the most difficult for me. I can talk all I want about what I think his character IS, but that doesn't mean I know what to make him SAY in any given scene- especially considering I tend to write drama stories, and that's not a good playing field for him (He's better with adventure or romance or humor).

Secret knowledge I have from a close study of Cosmo I did once upon a time - he favors long sentences, not choppy ones. I feel like it's easy to default to "This character doesn't have deep thoughts, so I'll just have them say something quick and random." I'm sure Cosmo has his fair share of short comments, but recognizing his long sentences changed something for me. Made me think more carefully about how specific he's going to be.

I think he worked great in "Repeat" when he was the POV character and had to move things along - he had no choice & his internal dialogue was able to cover for the characterization his dialogue couldn't - but I don't do well when he's a side character and I need him to "say something funny" to sound like Cosmo.

Not one of my favorites to write, but that's because I like making characters clash and have long conversations about complicated topics. Cosmo isn't necessarily a fun one for that, or to see get in an emotionally heated situation with. I think he'd just leave... ... but I liked "Repeat" when he COULDN'T leave us, so we were privy to all the secrets he wouldn't say.

You might be surprised, but I genuinely like writing Anti-Cosmo long and rambly- I get to do this in Frayed Knots (which is a completely unique narration tone from Origin of the Pixies, which is informative but blunt).

I especially liked Reedfilter Rules Chapter 2, when he uses some VERY heavy (as in flowery) and long-winded language for his internal commentary. Sadly... a lot of people aren't fans of reading that kind of thing :'D And I do not blame them... but I enjoyed it.

That chapter took YEARS of on and off attention to finalize because I wanted him to be perfect before I locked myself into a certain style for the rest of the AU, but honestly... I'm not sure I can - or should bother to - mimic that for future chapters.

idk. I think it's fun, but my goal was to write RR!Anti-Cosmo's internal narration distinct from Clouds!Anti-Cosmo's, and I think I succeeded. Just not sure if it's worth doing twice to that extreme.

One of the comments Frayed Knots tends to get is that it's exhausting... not only for length of its own merit, but also because Anti-Cosmo rambles about worldbuilding and it can make readers free pressured to retain the info and/or it just confuses or bores them. And I totally get that...

... but also, I cannot emphasize enough that Knots' style is like that on purpose. Have you met this man? He SHOULD be bothering you- he's REALLY annoying and he talks a lot. And also, if you get lost along the way, I think he'd find that amusing and would do it more. lmao. get wrecked.

/whispers loudly - His whole thing is that his mom and stepdad think he's annoying and they're not especially nice to him - in fact, they both outright abuse him - and they don't really feel bad about it because he is just THAT bothersome, which is why he falls in with people like H.P., Blonda, and Anti-Wanda - who "just get him" - down the line. Hilariously, Wanda does not have patience for him... as much as he has a crush on her and wishes she did.

Sorry to everyone who takes his longwindedness as clumsy, frustrating writing. You're correct, but so am I. If I have to sit here in his annoying head for 8 years of writing this 'fic, you have to sit here with me <3

Genuinely though, rambling is A.C.'s thing and I like doing that in his other POV stories, like "Yellow Flower Number 9" (linked below). He literally stops shopping to dump his woes on a cashier and I think that's very fitting for him. Man loves his monologues...

I write a lot of H.P.-Anti-Cosmo interactions, but because I strive for canon-compliancy, I can't allow H.P. to call him by his "A.C." nickname until he canonically gives it to him in "Fairly Odd Baby" (A.C. seems surprised by the nickname, but says he likes it).

- You wouldn't think it would matter, but the amount of times I've had to sigh and fix a draft with the nickname is not 5. - Compare with "Yellow Flower Number 9," where he calls him A.C. like 4 times in 20 minutes, lol.

Hmm, hardest character... Ooh, I think it's Jorgen. I really like how I wrote him in "Whatever," specifically here-

Jorgen's hand shot forward. He grabbed Juan in his fist and squeezed until the fairy shrieked and started spitting pleas. Then Jorgen jerked his hand over to Seneca. She flinched back. "I am not here to wait around and answer all your pathetically obvious questions. That is what he is for. You can ask him. As for me, I have two appendixes to separate and a great deal of paperwork to do." He dropped Juan to the floor, then crashed his walking stick (Star staff, sun staff) down too. The force of it sent a shockwave across the clinic.

- but I'm extremely self-conscious of him in general. I don't use him much.

Oh, Chloe takes a ton of attention. She has a super specific speech pattern of using contractions to start her many, many follow-up sentences to her thoughts (She builds on her thoughts and elaborates in a series of addendums).

She speaks her mind and is kind of "deadpan snark" about it, but in a happy way. She also has very weird phrasings. Fascinating.

I wrote about her speech pattern HERE, but she's unique for sure. I'm quite pleased with how I wrote her in "This Is a Box."

I also think Vicky can be tricky to balance realism with what a threat she is... particularly if you're trying not to lampshade the consequences of her actions (although the show does). I look forward to writing her in combination with Dale especially. I have free reign to push Dale way past where I can realistically push Timmy without Timmy reacting, so I think that might be fun.

I had a lot of fun writing Trixie in Chapter 4 of Come What May, when Kevin meets her at Shirley's Pizzeria (and I enjoyed Tad, Chad, and Veronica both in that chapter and the previous). Kevin meeting the popular kids was one of my favorite topics in general :)

I struggle with Kevin flipping from high energy to extremely self-deprecating. I tend to play him as dead inside, which I do think is accurate, but I do think Come What May is missing the humor that comes from being the guy who kicks down a door yelling "Yo, yo, you! Crockmeister in the hizzy!" or answers his phone with "This is the Crockmeister; crock to me!"

I'd love to finish this 'fic, but it always feels depressing to me :'D I was going for "quirky middle grade adventure," but I ended up with gloom and creepiness. Idk what to do to make it fun and I hesitate to touch it if it might bring me down, so I procrastinate.

I think I need to practice my Mark Chang voice to make him more fun and quirky instead of stating plain facts.

Also, for the longest time, I felt kind of guilty that I write Anti-Cosmo as an overly anxious loser when (afaik), most of the fandom don't consider that even close to their vision, so I felt like I was bashing on their favorite even though I was genuinely trying to write him the way I see him, but... sldkfj. vindicated!!

Thank you New Wish for reminding me he really is that much of a cringefail loserboy <3

No matter what happens with the series from this point on... "Battle of Big Wand" Anti-Cosmo, you will always be famous to me.

[another-lost-mc]

Saying Something Stupid Like "I Love You"

Simeon decides to send his beloved a long-awaited confession of his feelings. Unfortunately, he's never been good with technology.

SIMEON x gn!Reader 2.6k Words | SFW | Angst with a Happy Ending | Misunderstandings Content Warnings: Mentions of drinking/getting drunk. A/N: This was my contribution to the Simeon 2023 Birthday Collab (original submission post and AO3 link).

Simeon groaned in frustration and tossed another crumpled paper into the waste basket under his desk. Despite being a famous writer, he spent the past hour struggling to write a simple, coherent letter confessing his feelings to you.

There was a special event taking place in the Devildom soon, and he was struck by inspiration to confess his feelings - finally, after admiring them in silence for so long - and hope they would accept his offer to be his date. The eager anticipation resulted in dozens of abandoned letters in his trash filled with mistakes: numerous instances of misspelling your name or his own; shaky penmanship that left parts of the letter completely illegible; and at times he pressed so hard on the paper that the pen tip poked through.

Simeon glanced warily at the computer pushed back against the edge of his desk. He was horrible with those contraptions, but spellchecker was such a handy tool that it made it worthwhile to type up drafts of his TSL work. He wanted a more personal touch for his invitation to you and chose a handwritten letter instead. Unfortunately, he was spiraling into frustration and wanted the weight of his confession off his shoulders.

With some reluctance, he reached across the desk and pulled the keyboard closer. His fingers flew across the keys, and before he knew it, he had typed his invitation to you - complete with his confession of his feelings for you too - and read it over twice for spelling errors.

Satisfied, he opened up the Dmail app and attached his letter to a blank email. He tapped quickly on his contacts and added your email address. The screen froze for a moment while the attachment finished uploading. When he hit “Send,” he smiled in satisfaction. He decided he would cook for Luke and Solomon tonight; he was in the mood to celebrate. He shut off his computer (with only minor difficulty) and walked to the kitchen with a spring in his step.

CHAT: The Demon Brothers (7)

Levi: WTF is this?

Satan: What’s wrong?

Levi: Have you checked your Dmail lately? Simeon sent something sooo cringey to all of us!

Satan: Let me take a look.

Beelzebub: I get the feeling this wasn’t meant for me, but I’ll go to the festival with him if he wants. The food is going to be amazing.

Belphegor: I have a feeling this email definitely wasn’t meant for you.

Satan: I agree. Did he send this to all of us by accident?

Levi: LMAO!!!! He’s such a noob with technology!

Asmo: Aw, I never knew Simeon had such a sweet side. I’m totally jealous, I would swoon if one of my admirers sent me a love letter like this!

Mammon: Wanna bet who this was meant for? Oh, I bet he’d pay us whatever we want to keep it secret!

Asmo: Ugh! Way to ruin the romance!

Lucifer: Enough. I will call Simeon and speak to him about this. In the meantime, DO NOT mention this to anyone.

Belphegor: Any ideas who this was really meant for? 

Asmo: I’m really curious about that too!

Mammon: Who cares! This is perfect blackmail material!

Satan: I think I know who it’s for.

Levi: Huh? How’d you figure that out?

Satan: We know who he sent it to and it was obviously a mistake. That’s all I’ll say.

Beelzebub: It’s their turn to cook dinner tonight. I’m on my way to the kitchen to see if it’s ready. Should I ask if they got it too?

Mammon: Huh? What about them?

Lucifer: SILENCE. ALL OF YOU.

Simeon drummed his finger tips against his knee while he read the same page of his book for the sixth time. He made a light lunch for him and Luke - Solomon was busy elsewhere today - and sat in his favorite chair to distract himself. The weight of the DDD in his pocket burned heavily against his leg and the Devildom’s newest bestselling novel couldn’t keep his mind off his confession to you.

An hour ago he felt elated that the feelings he tried to suppress were finally out in the open, but now a new type of worry plagued him: uncertainty. Any angel of his age and status would be familiar with regret - arguably, he’d had more than his fair share compared to most - but exploring these new and wonderful feelings made him feel vulnerable in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

He jumped in his seat when the DDD started to chime with an incoming phone call. He scrambled to keep the book in his lap from tumbling to the floor. He reached into his pocket, barely conscious that he was holding his breath. Simeon’s eyebrows shot up curiously when he saw Lucifer’s name flash across the screen. It wasn’t the phone call he expected, but he always felt a warm feeling when Lucifer took the initiative and reached out to talk to him first despite their rocky past together.

Simeon tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Good afternoon, Lucifer,” he said with a smile. “I hope you’re doing well.” 

There was a pause, the sound of shuffling on the other end of the call. “Yes, good afternoon, Simeon,” Lucifer replied. Another pause. “Have any of my brothers contacted you?”

Simeon ran his finger along the spine of his book. “No, although now that you mention it, some of them sent me some random emoji messages. I assumed they were sent by accident, I know I’ve done the same in the past. Why do you ask?”

Lucifer cleared his throat. “I’ll be blunt. I know about the email you sent earlier today. More accurately, we all do.”

Simeon’s throat suddenly ran dry and he coughed. Clearly he had misheard. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re—“

“The email you attempted to send earlier to a specific individual,” Lucifer interrupted, “was sent to me and my brothers which I assume was a technical error on your part.” He chuckled dryly. “While your letter was very flattering, I realized quickly it wasn’t meant for my eyes and I wanted to make sure you were aware.”

It was difficult for Simeon to think clearly with the muffled roar in his ears. His face burned with embarrassment and his hands felt clammy. He glared at the computer on the table across the room as though it had done this terrible misdeed to him on purpose.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered dejectedly. He wanted to be angry, but all Simeon really felt was defeat. How had his simple plan gone so wrong? “I appreciate you telling me, and if you and the others could keep this to yourselves, that would be for the best. I’ll have to…figure this out,” he said slowly. He needed time to process this unexpected turn of events.

“I can’t guarantee that they won’t attempt to tease you about this, but I have already warned them about the consequences should they do anything beyond that. But Simeon, I think—“ Lucifer paused, and then sighed. “Nevermind. Take care, and please let me know if any of my idiot brothers bother you.”

When the call disconnected, Simeon let the phone slip between his fingers and fall to the plush carpet at his feet. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. Time seemed to freeze and Simeon couldn’t focus on anything but the burning waves of embarrassment that rippled through him every time he thought about his letter to you. The intimate praise and heartfelt declarations he made felt almost scandalous now that he knew Lucifer and his brothers were aware of the contents.

Despite his awkward handling of technology, his fingers flowed freely against the keys of the keyboard as easily as if they were those of a piano, the deepest wishes of his heart spilling into a digital void and he hoped his words echoed true once they reached their destination. It was difficult not to succumb to regret and doubt now that his plea for your affections had failed; his trials as an angel seemed to pale in comparison to the despair he felt now, as though once again fate had tempted him with something just beyond his reach.

The sound of a door opening nearby jolted Simeon out of his daze. He wiped the dampness from his eyes and stood up hastily, wiping his hands on his slacks and looking around his dimly lit room to make sure nothing was out of place. He bent over and picked up the forgotten DDD on the floor by his feet, and he grimaced when he saw missed notifications flash on the screen. He stuffed the device into his pocket with more force than necessary when a familiar knock rattled his bedroom door.

“We’re back!” Luke beamed at him when he opened his door and poked his head inside. “I picked up ingredients for devil-spiced chili tonight, but you might want to hurry because—“ Luke visibly flinched at the sound of pots and pans rattling in the kitchen. “Solomon said he always wanted to try making it.”

Simeon gave Luke a reassuring ruffle of his hair and followed the younger angel to the kitchen, his personal angst temporarily forgotten as he rushed to salvage their dinner.

Sun peeked through the gap of his curtains and Simeon woke with a groan. He buried his head into his pillow and tried to go back to sleep, but the faint throbbing in his temples promised a lingering headache he would regret later on.

He stayed up later than usual the night before, staring into the fireplace with a frown while he sipped Demonus and prayed the fiery sweet taste would help dull the pain in his heart. After he finished his first glass, he got up with a sigh and went into the sitting room to retrieve the bottle. Solomon was reading on the sofa and raised his eyebrow when he saw Simeon’s stormy expression.

“Rough night?” the sorcerer asked with a teasing smile.

“You have no idea,” Simeon grumbled under his breath when he retreated back to the dark solace of his bedroom. He poured more dark amber liquid in his glass and embraced the drunken haze that fell over him like a veil.

Simeon sat up and winced at the stiffness in his neck and shoulders. At some point during the night he tried to undress himself for bed but failed miserably; his shirt was half-unbuttoned and wrinkled, and one of his socks was missing. He was still wearing his slacks but the belt was unbuckled and loose around his waist.

Simeon swung his legs over the side of his bed and rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes. The shameful events from the day before came crashing down on him when he heard the familiar ping of his DDD. The sound was muffled, and Simeon started patting his bed trying to find it. He stood up on unsteady legs and glared at the tangled mess of blankets. He grabbed his duvet and threw it behind him, but the device was nowhere to be seen.

“Technology is overrated,” he grumbled to himself. He picked up each of his pillows and tossed them aside. Still no DDD. “It’s probably one of Lucifer’s brothers teasing me,” he guessed bitterly. He grabbed hold of his sheets and raised them with a sharp snap. “I should just get rid of the cursed thing.”

He finally heard a dull thud on the carpet. He glanced down and saw the familiar shape of his DDD hit the floor and bounce underneath the bed. It had stopped pinging with new notifications but morbid curiosity and sheer defiance motivated Simeon to kneel down and reach for it anyway; perhaps destroying it later would make him feel better.

It had rolled just out of reach and he flattened himself against the carpet while he stretched his hand towards it. His fingers brushed the smooth surface but he swore when a loud knock on his bedroom startled him and caused him to jerk suddenly. His head hit the bed frame and he accidentally knocked the DDD further out of reach.

Simeon was frustrated and muttering angrily by the time he pulled himself out from under the bed and stalked across the room. He practically ripped the door open, but the curse on the tip of his tongue died in his throat when he saw your concerned face staring back at him.

You glanced at him nervously, eyes darting between his rumpled clothing and the room behind him where his bedding was scattered all over the floor. “Is this a bad time? I wanted to talk to you but I can come back later.”

Simeon acknowledged your generous opportunity to escape for what it was, but he supposed he had to face his faults sooner or later. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. You walked past him when he moved aside, and he closed the door so he could suffer his continued humiliation in private.

“I tried to call you but you didn’t answer,” you said apologetically.

“I dropped my phone,” was his response, and he realized how silly it sounded a moment too late. “I’m not the best company today,” he admitted while he tried to smooth down the wrinkles of his shirt. He was suddenly very aware of his poor appearance and he could only imagine what you must think of him, seeing him in such a haphazard state.

Simeon froze when he felt your fingers brush against his face. When had he started crying? He couldn’t make out the expression on your tear-blurred face.

“Is this about your letter?” you asked quietly. You cupped his cheeks in your hands and he knew they must’ve felt his skin grow hot when he blushed.

Simeon bit his lip bashfully. He covered your hands beneath his own, enjoying the feeling of your fingers nearly entwined with his. “Who told you?” he whispered thickly around the lump in his throat.

“Lucifer sent it to me last night,” you admitted, “but I wanted to give you my response in person.”

Simeon felt the warmth of your body against his own when you leaned against him, a comforting presence that helped keep him steady on his feet. He braced himself for the worst and nodded that he was listening.

You couldn’t help but smile sadly at the look of anxious anticipation on Simeon’s face. “I don’t like the feeling that I make you nervous,” you said. You pulled their hands away from Simeon’s tear-stained cheeks and wrapped your arms around his waist instead.

Simeon leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. “I find myself lost, wandering in unfamiliar territory when it comes to my feelings for you,” he sighed, lips grazing your skin. He answered your hug with his own, his limbs growing heavy with exhaustion as he gave up trying to wear a mask of brave indifference. 

You pulled back enough to catch his gaze with your own. “I love you,” you said with a smile that started shy and soft, but grew wide and radiant when Simeon blinked at you in surprise. Simeon’s only response was a sob that quickly morphed into relieved and delighted laughter. His hold on you tightened and you held each other in his warm, sunlit room.

In a moment of clarity, Simeon pondered that perhaps technology wasn’t so bad after all.

[dragongirltongue]

New Pinned post <3

Hi there, the name is Zelda, or one of like, 20 other names that may or may not be listed somewhere around here. If you know a name I go by that isn't findable here don't use it. <3

I'm bigender which is made up of girl and fem6oy, as such I use she/her and sometimes he/him pronouns when I'm feeling fem6oy enough <3

I'm in my 30s, not getting more specific than that until I decide it's not true enough to change it, don't try to find my exact age as I don't like sharing that information publicly, I don't even update it on my birthday <3

I'm a polyamorous bisexual voraphile freak and if you're over 18 you're welcome to talk to me about how much of a freak I am. I love to flirt and encourage it. Also happy to share my Other Blog with anyone interested, again as long as you're of age. <3

I'm a film graduate and currently working on doing something with that experience as well as working on a superhero comic and a 2D zelda style game. Feel free to bug me about any of those I love to discuss writing and media and want to encourage media literacy. <3

I'm also an ex-jehovahs witness and as a result I'm hugely into the holiday season in a very against my old god kinda way. Also big into sinning <3

Also I'm like, a dragon in probably an otherkin/thetadelta kinda way, like, it's core to who I am and how I understand myself so yeah. Despite this my fursona is a fox, the dragon in my icon is literally me <3

I also draw sometimes and when I do it'll be posted to @dragongirldrawings but always reblogged here too.

Also I'm a member of a plural system, feel free to check out the rest of the system over here @haven-sys <3

Further on the identity weirdness I'm an imaginary friend for the person who used to inhabit this body, they've been gone for like, over 20 years so it's not really relevant but I have started embracing my nature as a fictional creation, it's comforting.

Btw, if one of my posts containing my typing quirk ends up on your dash I take no responsibility for it. I use it in posts that are for me only and if they happen to resonate with others that's their choice to reblog.

I had intended to set tipping up on my blog for a while but adhd caused me to never get around to it sooo, homebrew tip button on my original posts. Feel free and outright encouraged to steal this idea <3

So yeah that's me, hiii I love you all <3

this post is specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue

DNI list under the read more.

lmao imagine if I actually made one of those finally, that's how you'd know I've been replaced with an evil clone or something.

That being said if you're looking at my blog to send me an ask or dm about what someone gets off to please understand unless they're actively hurting someone I rly don't care. I have a lot of ignored and blocked anons about this.

This goes double if the person you're trying to alert me to is trans femme, we don't play that game here, especially given that I know I've been targetted for things as simple as engaging in vore the wrong way for some people or whatever.

Like, I just want to make it clear I rly don't give a fuck what another adult does in the bedroom, I rly don't care if the bedroom happens to include their blog and I rly don't care if they like to flirt about it with other adults on this website.

Also if your pinned post is a callout for anyone about anything it's likely to set off my paranoia around you, which is to say I will not be able to trust you if this is the case even if it's for someone who's actually a danger to a community, like, actively.

Like, this ain't a moral stance or anything, it's a mental health thing. I see that you want to make your first point of contact into a crosshair on someone else I'm gonna be scared you're gonna aim at me next even if it's completely reasonable that you'd never find anything objectionable with me. It scares me and I'm gonna spend every interaction walking on egg shells around you cos what if you're digging for dirt, like, I got no way of knowing.

Anyway as the opening joke implies I don't see any worth in having a list of things to not interact with me over cos the lived experience on this planet is so full of nuance and I've formed deem friendships with people who'd probably have avoided me if I had a DNI and they cared about it.

I think DNIs are dumb but this feels like a space to talk about some general limits on what I'm gonna put up with on this website. I'm just here for a good time with other freaks, anything else is optional. If you want to drag me into your discourse at this point then I guess this is whre I ask you to Do Not Interact. To anyone else, I love yall <3

If you've been directed here after sending an ask my way please apologize for wasting my time [here]

tl;dr DNIs are dumb but don't drag me into your personal grievances with others.

this post is still specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue [tip]

[ts-witchy-archive]

any tips for connecting with deities? (specifically Hephaestus, Apollo, Eros and Persephone?) Links to master posts would work too!

— @sparrows-witchy-blog

I have no idea if you mean the initial connection or staying connected to them so I'm going with the latter!

My top tips for staying connected with your Deities:

Get off social media for a few hours. Connect with the world and the people around you. Social media and online resources are one of the best things to ever happen to the Pagan community but personally, I've never felt more connected to my Gods than when I'm outside in nature.

Do some meditation. I know, I know. But I don't necessarily mean sit in a corner for 30mins in silence. You could colour, go for a walk. clean, crochet, etc without distractions. This is called active mediation and with the right intention it will absolutely help connect you to your Deities.

Keep a list of devotional activities for each Deity. It's super easy to get stuck on wanting to do something but not knowing what to do. Having a list makes life waaaayyyyy easier.

Read their myths/hymns or listen to someone read their myths/hymns. This is pretty self explanatory I feel.

Dedicate your outfit to them! It's super fun to come up with outfits that remind you of/make you feel closer to your Deity

Wear jewelry with their symbols and dedicate the act of wearing it to them.

Tell them about your day. Just a causal chit chat can be really nice for both parties

Draw their symbols on your body! I don't recommend doing this somewhere super visible if you go to school or work in a profession environment though. I like to do this because I'm too anxious to get a tattoo lmao

This is a small list but it I hope it helps! It's normal to not feel super connected in the way you see people describe it online. That feeling comes with practice and most of the online stuff is exaggerated and dramatised for content. If you have any questions feel free to send another ask for shoot me a DM :)

[stil-lindigo]

hi your replies to people sending u defeatist asks about the strike have been really motivating to me and i wanted to let you know. it can be difficult to get out of that kind of mindset when u feel like you're not doing enough, but ur replies reminded me that there actually is a lot i can do even if it's just from home, and if i want to channel my energy more effectively, i can.

somewhat unrelated, but do u have tips for getting ur workplace to unionize lmao? this is something i want to do (assuming there isn't already a union wherever i end up) once i get employed, and even though i know like the very basics of making it happen in my state, do u have any idea how i can like??? more effectively get people on board?? both with the union and the idea of strikes for palestine?? when i've interviewed at places and been around workers, the vibe has been sort of liberal-sympathetic, it's-none-of-my-business at best so far, and i don't get the sense that a lot of people like fully know what's going on, which is super daunting. totally understand if ur unable to give me advice lol, i just have had no idea who to ask

hello anon. Unfortunately, I’m based in Australia, so I have a feeling that any information I provide might not work the same in the states. In any case, this article from Socialist Alternative goes through the process of setting up a union - I hope it gives you a start at least!

[pondslime]

@pretty-possum​​ cynth, ur mind. ur fuckin MIND. thank u for sending me this electric idea bc it rlly had me spooning out my brain!! here’s some filthnasty for u in which he has way too much fun and it’s ickyweird

catching flies with honey (if the killing’s what you like, make it sweet)

bo sinclair x afab!reader

rating: explicit

wordcount: 4.8k

Reader POV. You keep telling him how much you hate him. You little spitfire! It's real cute. Anyway, he’s got something special to show you. He’s sure you’ll love it. 

Also posted on AO3 here.

⚠️ Canon typical violence and fuckery. We’re in Bo’s hell basement for the first bit of this, so that means many references to past noncon. When we get to the wax museum nasty, it's dubcon under EXTREME duress. Reader dislikes Bo immensely and makes this clear to him multiple times. Bo finds this endlessly entertaining and adapts his approach to make her even more miserable. He's on his brat-taming shit. Sugary sweet, full of bullshit compliments, contrived as hell. He’s very smug and manipulative and slimy in this fic. HEAVY praise kink. Deviating from my other Bo fics, he doesn’t call you any awful names! Whoa! But he might as well! Because this really isn’t any better! Praise kink as degradation.  A wax sculpture is destroyed, and the resulting viscera and nastiness is described in vivid detail. Some suspension of disbelief is necessary for the decomposition described, but that’s basically a warning for the original movie lmao. Mind break elements. He talks you through it (unfortunately). Multiple orgasms with a heavy focus on overstimulation.  ⚠️

He’s red on the inside, same as you. It’s about time that somebody reminded him.

“I’m gettin’ sloppy.” Bo clicks his tongue. “Ain’t your fault, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that.” You spit out, tugging at the restraints on the chair.

“What? You don’t like me bein’ sweet to you?”

He hums a tune as he clips your fingernails. You expect a sting of pain—want one, even—each time he lifts another finger. It never comes. He’s uncharacteristically gentle, pinching his tongue between his teeth and tilting his head as he studies your hands.

“Ain’t been takin’ care of you like I should, baby.” He murmurs.

Your lip trembles with indignation. You wear enough marks on your skin to know that his version of care isn’t something you want. Your eyes dart back to the scratch on his neck. You wish you could’ve done more, cut deeper—but you’ll take this small victory. It’s a reminder that he’s nothing more than human, shackled by the same mortality you are. You can see that in the pinpricks of blood blooming on his neck.

He bleeds like you and he can die just the same.

“I hope it scars.” You mutter.

Leveling his gaze to meet yours, Bo tips his head towards your bound wrists.

“Hope yours do to.” He chuckles. “You keep yankin’ on those things and we’re ‘bout to have a matchin’ set.”

The smile he gives you is warm and soft, crinkling at the corners of his eyes. It’s as counterfeit as the rest of his persona and just as paper-thin. You wonder who he stole that expression from. He only seems to have things that he’s taken from others.

You count the days with scratches on his Polaroids.

He keeps your nails short now, so you can’t dig into them like you used to. Despite that, you try your best, pressing a crescent moon of a cut into the glossy surface. He’s got enough of them hanging up that you doubt he’ll notice. If you know one thing for certain, it’s that he seems to have a remarkably one-track mind.

He comes down here for you. Everything else is as consequential as the dirt and rust that line the shelves. A product of years of neglect, just another piece of the background. When you think about it, even you are one of those incidental things. The previous occupants of this room watch you from the wall, a constant reminder that this has all happened before. Down here, you are not an anomaly. The technicalities of your self are really just that, technicalities.

It’s necessary to give him things (your body, your time, all that rust) because that’s how you stay alive. You can’t feel bad for that. It’s a hunger like anything else and you swallow it down like any of the other tasteless meals he brings you. It slides down your gullet and with every mouthful, the pang lessens. When the hunger is gone, all you’re left with is the way he sits in your stomach.

You have to be careful. If you’re not, there’ll come a point where there won’t be anything more to pry away. You have to stay awake.

You’re screaming. Bo’s yawning.

“Figured ya’ woulda gotten that outta your system by now.”

You ignore him.

“Want me to try and holler with ya’? Might help that sound carry.”

“Where’s everybody else?” You wheel around to face him, hands balled into tight fists. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, leaning back on his elbows.

“Dunno.” Scrunching his face up in thought, he purses his lips. “Haven’t seen nobody ‘round here in a minute. Just you.”

“Just me?” You chew on your bottom lip, searching his face. “You’re not a good liar.”

“I’m not lyin’.” He smirks at you.

“They’re all dead, aren’t they?” Your voice warbles a bit around the question, but you manage to steady your voice. You hope he doesn’t notice.

He does.

“Look darlin’, I know you’re real worried ‘bout those friends of yours.” He frowns at you, brow creased in a poor attempt at sympathy. “And I don’t wanna scare ya’ baby. I really don’t. But you gotta know. My brother…he ain’t right. If he got to ‘em first…can’t tell ya’ what could’ve happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s got this, uh—this compulsion.” He shakes his head slowly, letting out a low whistle. “Bad stuff. Gotta keep ya’ away from him.”

“Why?”

“Oh, ‘cuz you’re somethin’ special.” He drags the last word out, letting it pop in his mouth. “But you know that, don’tcha, baby?”

His praise might as well have been spat into your face with a wad of saliva.

Getting to his feet with a groan, he glances over his shoulder. He stands there for a beat too long, eying the Polaroids. Leaning over, he tugs one off the wall. You haven’t exactly been subtle with your date-keeping. He scans over the damage, his lips curling into a sneer.

“I’m gonna say this once.” His face twists into a scowl. “All this? It’s real cute—until it ain’t.”

There’s an eagerness to your breath as you watch him, your eyes darting from the ruined picture back to his face. It’s an odd, confusing thing, but part of you prefers him like this. The cruelty makes him predictable. You’re so sick of the platitudes, the sugary pet names. You know what he wants to call you, what he really thinks of you as. He may as well have branded those words deep into your skin.

You used to make him so angry. It almost felt like your encounters were equal parts punishment doled out to both of you, wrapped up around the callous bite of his voice. This recent change in demeanor frustrates you, it feels like it was born out of something you did. Nothing bothers you more than that. When you were a slut, or a whore, or a nasty little bitch, that was all him.

You ready yourself for what’s coming, knowing that it’ll hurt, but pleased to know that you managed to break his composure. Unable to hide behind thinly veiled niceties, he can’t pretend to be kind.

To your dismay, his face relaxes.

“Reckon it ain’t nice to tease ya’ with pictures when ya’ want the real thing.” He sighs, crumpling the picture in his hand. Your shoulders sag. “I’ll make it up to you, baby.”

You start your count back up on a new Polaroid. It feels less satisfying, but that’s routine for you.

You’re six notches deep into your new calender when Bo comes downstairs jangling his keys.

“Got somethin’ to show ya’ today.”

“…What is it?”

“Don’t wanna spoil the surprise.” He shrugs, shooting you a smile. “Can’t bring it here, so…how ya’ feel ‘bout takin’ a walk, darlin’?”

Outside the gas station, you shield your eyes from the sun.

Rustling in his pocket, Bo pulls out a crumpled box of cigarettes. You peer around as he flicks his lighter open, your heart stuttering in your chest. You’re not bound. There’s nothing preventing you from taking off down the street. But this is his test, and you know that.

The limits of the town are further than you’d thought. Even if you could make it to the mouth of the town without him at your heels, that’s only part of it. The momentum you’d need to sustain to get down the road means nothing if you lose it there, face-down in the gravel.

Bo’s taking a drag of his cigarette when you glance back at him, a smirk playing at the ends of his lips. He looks at you like he can tell what you’re thinking, as if he’s run through the same scenario a thousand times in his mind. He’s come out the winner every time. You’re sure he’d love for you to prove him right.

“You want one?” He gestures toward the cigarette.

In place of an answer, you glare at him.

“Suit yourself, sweetness.” He grins.

“Waste of money.” You murmur.

“You might be right. But I never buy any of ‘em.” There’s an edge of manic glee in his voice. “Not once.”

Keeping your eyes on him, you press your lips together. You can tell he wants you to ask what he means by that. He’s all but bouncing on his heels, eyes twinkling. He hasn’t fucked you in days, has barely seemed to have time to touch you. It felt like a reprieve at the time, but this barely-contained excitement worries you.

You don’t respond.

He finishes his cigarette, flicking it away.

“C’mon.”

Bo leads you up the hill to the wax museum. Reaching out, he closes his hand around the door handle. It opens with a creak.  

“Go on. Ladies first.”

Inside, it’s quiet, but there’s no peace.

Sun reflects out through green panes, bathing everything in unnatural light. It feels wrong to stand here in the gloom, surrounded by an assortment of shadowy wax figures, their faces frozen in placid contentment. Nervousness gnaws at your chest, leaving your palms clammy.

“What are we doing here?” Your throat feels tight.

He doesn’t answer, just leads you deeper into the room. Your eyes land on a mirror against the far wall. In its dusty cloudiness, you both are shadowy blobs of shapes, completely insubstantial.

“Keep goin’. ‘S in the other room.”

He beckons you through an open doorway and dust tickles your nose. Following his gaze, your eyes land on another group of wax sculptures. Their clothes are just as dated as the others, all crushed velvet and strings of pearls. Despite this, they look newer, no tendrils of dust hanging off of their outstretched arms.

There’s something familiar about them, but it’s hard to tell in this light. You take a step closer, narrowing your eyes.

“Ya’ know, my brother likes projects.” You hear Bo say. “Guess that’s somethin’ we got in common.”

You blink in confusion, your mouth falling open. Of course they look familiar—you’d recognize those faces anywhere. Standing in front of you are wax replicas of your friends, leering at you with painted-on smiles.

“What is this?” Your hands are shaking. “Where are they?”

“Right in front of you, darlin’.” Bo exclaims. “Now, don’t they look good? I think they clean up real nice, don’t you?”

It’s nothing more than a cruel joke.

The anger that grips you is sudden, thoughtless. You reel around, your hand clenching into a fist. The punch you throw at him is a pitiful thing. He avoids it easily, catching your wrist in his hand and shoving you away. You back up frantically as he closes in on you, your heart skipping in your chest. Losing your footing, you smack into one of the figures.

“What, you ain’t thankful for the reunion? Thought you’d appreciate it.”

The sculpture totters behind you. You flail wildly as you try to steady yourself, but it’s no use—your feet slip out from under you. As you fall, it falls with you, hitting the floor with a shatter that sprays chips of paint and wax over the ground.

“Hate to say it, but I’m a bit disappointed in ya’, sweet thing.”

Wrenching your head back to look at the damage, your mouth falls open. The impact of the fall bisected the sculpture’s face, cracking it wide open. A scream bubbles up in your throat as you realize that it isn’t hollow. There’s something bloated and dead inside it, staring back at you with milky eyes.

You’d know that face anywhere.

“Dunno how I’m gonna explain this to Vincent, baby. He spent a lot of time on that one.”

You scramble to your feet with a shriek, backpedaling wildly until you run into him. His hands are quick to close around you, pinning your arms behind your back. You try your best to twist out of his grip, but he holds you still, pulling you against his chest.

“Figure he’ll need a replacement.” Bo leans down to murmur in your ear, his tone sickly and apologetic. “I’m gonna have a hell of a time tryin’ to convince him that it ain’t gonna be you.”

Your eyes dart between the figures, hardly registering his words. It’s impossible to make sense of what’s in front of you. Everything seems doused in unreality, tilted on its side. Your friends stand frozen, lips peeled away from their teeth in twisted imitations of smiles. It’s been so long that you can hardly remember what their voices sound like. You won’t hear them again. The people they used to be live on only in your head, spiraling into a mass of memory. The realization has your throat tightening, your eyes blurring with tears.

You feel his lips against your hair and a broken wail tips out of your mouth. You’ve walked straight into the gaping maw of an open grave. They’re here and they’re rotting and there’s nothing to be done because you’re too late. This is no museum—it’s a mausoleum, and you paid your respects through a splattering of viscera on the floor.

“It ain’t that bad. We’ll set somethin’ up real nice for ya’, sweetness. Right by the door.”

You shudder, yanking against his hands.

“Whatcha wanna wear, darlin’? I’ll getcha whatever ya’ want.”

“Don’t tell him!” Your voice comes out shrill, rushing out of you in a high-pitched whine. “Don’t, please, don’t—”

“Well, I gotta tell him, baby.” He sighs.

“No, no, no. Please—”

“You want me to lie to him?” He tugs at your ear with his teeth. “Dunno. Thought I wasn’t a good liar.”

“You can’t, you—” Your breath escapes you in shallow gulps.

Abruptly, he lets go of your arms, shoving you off him. You pitch forward onto the ground, blinking away tears. He pounces on you with a laugh, flipping you onto your back. His hands paw at your breasts, sliding down your stomach. He moves closer, positioning himself between your thighs to force your knees up, yanking your legs open. Your dress rides up, bunching around your hips.

“This ain’t somethin’ I take lightly.” He shakes his head, sighing. “I’d miss ya’.”

“Fuck you.” You squirm underneath him.

“There’s that mouth.” He grins down at you, wrapping a hand around your throat. “That’s my girl.”

You scrabble at his grip, twisting underneath him. Bo’s hand doesn’t budge, his fingers closing tighter around your neck.

“Fuck. You.” You wheeze, unable to muster the venom you intend.

If you’re going to die, you want him to bruise you, to mark you up in such a way that the person responsible for the macabre mannequins in the other room would notice. You want the signs of a fight clear upon your skin. Anything to make them rethink dressing you up in satin and costume jewelry; kept on display to be gawked at, locked in someone’s imagined view of you.

Leave that one to rot on the side of the road, she’s sick of being looked at.

“Well, since you’re askin’ so nicely…” He grins down at you, his eyes glinting. “How you want it?”

His fingers brush between your legs, cupping your pussy through the cotton. You let out a sputtered yelp as he pulls your panties to the side. His thumb begins to rub at your clit and you buck your hips up, making a desperate move to wrench yourself away from him.

“Right there, baby?”

His grip on your throat is rhythmic, tightening and loosening and tightening again. Helpless darkness grips you as your throat constricts, only to be met with the shuddering relief of air filling your lungs. Head spinning, you oscillate wildly between the two unyielding extremes. You gasp when he pushes his finger into you, horrified to find yourself wet enough that it slides in easily. Your pussy clenches around the intrusion involuntarily, making you squeal.

"Guess all that death don't bother you. You're a trooper, baby." He pumps a second finger in, stretching you open. Your thighs shake and you can’t help the desperate little mewl that escapes your mouth.

“Got yourself an audience and now you’re purrin’ like a kitten.” He smirks, amusement plain in his voice. “That’s all ya’ needed, huh?”

“No.” You hiss out.

“Mmm-hmm. I hear ya’, darlin’.” His voice drips with honey, warm and throaty above you. “Don’tchu worry.”

You twist your head to the side, forcing your eyes to focus on the unnatural poses held by the corpses of your friends. Maybe it would be better to be like they were, immobile in their grotesque funeral clothes. They wouldn’t know what it felt like to lose all this, to die while you still breathed. Your eyes fall on the shattered carnage that covers the floor a few feet away. The hopelessness numbs you, making it easier to ignore the distracting warmth between your thighs. You’ll look at all that death and he won’t be able to make you feel anything.

“Eyes up here, beautiful.” He forces your head back. “Don’t like you lookin’ at ‘em when I’m touchin’ you. Makes me jealous.”

The room is warm and you’re warmer still, uglier than you’ve ever felt, sweat beading on your brow and dripping down the side of your face. He works another finger into you, humming under his breath. You gasp around the added pressure, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

“Just like that, baby.” He readjusts his grip on your throat, stroking a finger up the thundering beat of your pulse. “Make yourself feel good. You need it.”

You realize with a whimper that you’re doing just that, rocking down on his fingers. Your body is traitorous and so is that hunger, demanding to be full, to take in as much as it could. Like a whore, your mind offers up bitterly. Just like a whore. You bite back a moan, twisting under him. You wish that he’d call you that, that his hand was digging harder into your skin. You need this to hurt so you can focus on the poison that drips off his words. If you could manage that, you’d make it out of here.

This is about survival. That’s what you’re trying to do.

He shifts the angle of his hand slightly and you tense up, unable to muffle the moan that spills out of your mouth. Your orgasm is a shivery, unexpected thing, clambering up your spine and washing over you in a traitorous burst. It tastes like betrayal, shuddering its way through you with a shock, stealing the words from your tongue and leaving you gasping for air. Your eyes are watering when he finally lets go of your throat, tugging your underwear off.

"You got over that fast. Nothin’ brings you down, huh?” You hear the jingle of his belt as he undoes it. With a grunt, he nudges your legs wider apart with his knee, pulling you towards him. “You're a wonder, baby."

You jolt away with a gasp when you feel the head of his cock rub against your clit, your mouth falling open. He flashes a smile down at you, dragging his length through your folds.

“How’s that, baby?”

“It’s too much, it’s—” You take a ragged gasp as he presses against your entrance, screwing your eyes tightly shut.

“’S okay.” He murmurs, rocking the head of his cock slowly into your pussy with shallow thrusts. You grit your teeth together, hissing a shaky breath through your nose.

When he eases into you, you let out a watery sob. Pressing into you slow, you’re acutely aware of every inch of him. He’s usually too impatient to let you feel this gradual stretch, the way your walls clench helplessly around his cock.

“Feels good, huh?” He sinks deeper into you, and you tremble. “You like it?”

You shake your head sharply. You wiggle your hips down, anxious for him to fill you completely. You need it done so you can forget the way that this feels. There are things you shouldn’t see and things you shouldn’t feel, and today has been full of both.

“C’mon now, baby.” His tone is sugary sweet and patronizing. Each word plods out slow, as if he’s talking to a child. “If it feels good, you gotta like it.” 

You feel a flicker of embarrassment, but it’s not enough to push past the fog of euphoria that’s coiling low in your belly. Your breath stutters out of you in uneven bursts, almost as if his hand is still around your throat. That’s how this pleasure feels—it’s a choking, inescapable thing, pinning you against the ground.

“You’re takin’ me so well, baby. You wanna know how good that feels ‘round my dick?”

He rocks into you, slow and deep, dragging a pitiful moan from your lips.

“Be careful, angel.” Bo lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re gonna wake up ya’ friends.”

A sharp bolt of revulsion thrums through you, tugging you out from under the throb of sensation. The shame twists in your stomach, rotten and sickly. Before it can stick, he reaches down and slips his hands under your waist. With hardly any effort, he lifts you off the floor, tilting your pelvis up to meet him. Your mouth is pooling with saliva, tears pricking at your eyes. At this angle, he’s so deep that it’s as if you can feel him everywhere, pushing at the back of your throat. You let out a desperate whine, locking your legs around his waist. Without his hands to hold you up, you feel like you’d melt away into the floor.

He rolls his hips and you stutter out a sob, tremors of desperate pleasure wracking your body. You’re shaking, hands reaching up to tremble uselessly at your chest.

“What am I doin’, baby?”

“You’re—” You slur out, panting. “You’re fucking me.”

“Uh-huh. Ya’ like it?”

You keen out an unintelligible reply, nodding up at him desperately. He rewards your answer with a brush to your clit and your mouth falls open.

“Good, baby. Gettin’ a little hard to talk, yeah?” His words are coated in self-congratulatory smugness that can’t manage to hide behind sweetness. It taunts you, clawing under your skin and tearing through you in a way that only serves to make you wetter. “You ain’t gotta care ‘bout nothin’ other than how that feels.”

He fucks down into you, his cock kissing something deep in you that has you gaping up at him, stuttering out a moan. He’s pushing deep, impossibly so, then pulling out to press back in. Here, in this desperate haze of feeling that has you arching your back on the ground, it all feels so unavoidable.

Distantly, you can hear him murmuring above you. You’re so good, aren’t you? Say yes, sweetheart, but only if you want to. Only if it feels right. A distant part of your brain reminds you that the last thing you want to be is good. Trying desperately to catch onto that thought only has it fading away into that all-consuming pressure building up between your legs.

“Whose girl are you?”

“Yours.” You hiccup out. You’re disloyal and fickle and weak—and you aren’t lying, you can’t lie.

“That’s right.”

It feels like you’re losing something, your thoughts unspooling and picking up momentum as they roll away, getting further and further from you with every thrust of his hips.

Everything you give him is nothing he deserves.

“You wanna show me what a good girl you are and cum?”

No.

“Nn—”

The pleasure is a knife in your gut, splitting you open from the base of your belly all the way up to the shuddering flesh of your throat. It feels like honey, like his voice above you—eviscerating, cruel because it isn’t cruel. Hurting because it doesn’t, because all you wanted was him and he gave it to you. You arch up desperately, chasing after more of that sensation.

“Oh, angel. That’s perfect.”

He holds you suspended in the rolling thrum of your orgasm, thrusting deeper into you. Your orgasm burns at the back of your eyes, a blinding thing, gouging you open with white-hot light. Unlike the first, this one seems to wash over you with no end. You cry out, thrashing under the unrelenting waves, his cock pulsing inside you. His breathing is labored as he works his hips, sweat plastering his hair to his brow.

You look up at him and you don’t hate him—and that’s the worst thing, dragging another woozy ripple of pleasure out of your core. Your heart hammers away in your chest, pounding hot and loud in your ears. He spills inside you with a groan, his hands digging tightly into your thighs. Your body seems to throb with warmth, rolling waves of it leaving your limbs numb and useless.

With an embarrassingly wet squelch, he pulls out of you. You close your eyes and the world spins inside your head, making your eyelids heavy. Dimly, you can hear him zipping up the fly of his pants, refastening his belt. He clears his throat, huffing out a tired laugh.

“Like I told ya’, baby. You’re somethin’ special.”

He says something else and you nod. You’re not sure what he might have asked you—but he likes agreement. You’ve never cared much for what he liked, never had a desire to give whatever that was to him. But it’s easier to say yes. You can’t pin down what part of you has decided that’s true, but it’s pulsing between your legs and sitting on your tongue like it belongs there.

“Think I’d let him get his hands on you? That’s crazy talk, girl.”

Your thighs spasm a bit and you gulp. He lowers himself over you, sinking onto his elbows to press a kiss onto your trembling mouth. You can feel his spend leaking out of you, running down between your legs and puddling underneath you. The ache is coming, you can feel it, throbbing deep in your cunt.

When you were little, you couldn’t swallow pills. You needed them ground up and mixed in with sugar, served up on a spoon for you to swallow. Even then, you knew it was there, felt like you could taste it. But it made it easier, didn’t it? You couldn’t tell then and you can’t tell now. You whimper and he smiles against your lips, teasing your mouth open with his tongue.

Seems like you can take anything if it’s hidden under sugar.

As the haze of pleasure begins to lift, the room starts to come back into focus. You’re remembering that you can’t be here, that death is familiar and close. You have to leave, you have to run. With a shaky sob, you feel the fear begin to hitch up in your throat again, crawling out of the pocket of your insides that it’s been hiding in.

You yelp as you feel him circle around your clit again. Thrashing underneath him, you shake your head wildly.

“Nice and sensitive now, yeah? Look at that.”

You whimper helplessly, the words forming on your tongue only to disappear a moment later. Your clit feels swollen between your legs, delivering a snap of electricity to your core with every unrelenting stroke of his fingers. You teeter on the razor-edge of pain and pleasure—ratcheted too high, past the point of enjoyment. There’s nowhere left for the feeling to go. You’ll need to claw your way out of your skin to alleviate it, you’ll need him to take you apart.

“Sto—” The word’s swallowed up by a series of high-pitched vocalizations, spilling from your lips, one tripping over the other. Your grasp on language feels as sloppy as your cunt. Slippery, needy things. What good were they now?

“Ya’ know what I think?” He murmurs. “I think this pussy’s got one more.”

Dizzily, you think about the cigarette he’d offered you earlier. You could use it now.

“I can’t, I can’t—”

“Pretty girl.” He reaches up with his free hand to wipe away the tears spilling down the side of your face. “It’s hard, I know.”

If you had any energy, you’d bite him, you’d take out as many chunks as you could. Are you sure? That version of you feels far away now. He sinks his fingers back into your pussy and you whine. There’s no resistance to be found inside you, just a quivering hole fucked wide, greedily squeezing around his fingers.

“You wanna know somethin’, baby? I’ve always been selfish. Got told that a lot, and I reckon they were right.” His voice is as soft as his hands, rumbling into your head. “Can’t help it.”

“Bo, please—” You’re wound too tight to cum again, each touch a shivery spike of feeling that leaves you wanting to vacate your body. You need to tell him that, you need to—

“Name sounds real good in that mouth.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Say it again, would ya’?”

“Bo. Bo.” You let out a broken sob, a fresh wave of tears glazing over your eyes. “Bo…”

“Hush now, angel. Third times the charm.”

[prettylittledollswork]

Pact Marks<3

summery: where the demon brothers pact marks are n how they would kiss it/why they would kiss it ig?? idk how to explain this help. i did this based off of their animals btw also i kept it simple

genre: fluff

tw: not proof read, i wrote this within a hour and right before bed + i posted it a day after so SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE!! i would write indivual fanfics for this but i'm literally so sleepy rn

i didn't expect so many people wanting this?? also english isnt my first language, please be nice!! on some, i used their animals as ref cause i couldnt genuiely think of anything

Extra info - the pact mark swould be faint to the naked eye but to the owner of the pact marks, oh boy.. They see it clearer than day.

Lucifer - As the eldest and the avatar of delight, I feel like his pact mark would sit on the very top, the highest mark on your frame. Maybe a touch pattern of a peacock's feather on your forehead or a diamond shape much like his nested on your forehead. He would leave quick but warm kiss on it before you go to school or while your sleeping. Lucifer loves kissing you here because demons are tall, way taller than an average human. He doesn't have to bend over a lot and can just kiss you quickly and lovingly.

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Mammon - For Mammon, there are multiple viable locations. The again of your hand or on your spine. The back of your hand would be a raven feather, it's darkish. But, on sunny days, it'd shine like gold. On your backbone, it would withal be a raven feather however the little strands of the feather are composed of sharp claws in case you appearance proximately. Mammon would kiss the back of your hand and hold it regularly as it just offers him a warm feeling while he's contacting his pact mark. He would kiss your spine to make you flustered, as an instance when you're showering together or your changing. The cool contact of his lips sends shivers down your spine.

Leviathan - His would be on your neck, a serpent. Like a choker but within the shape of a snake. It wraps around your neck consummately, the head nesting at the middle of your neck and the tail either exactly ceasing at its mouth or the top overlapping the tail. Leviathan adores it when you let him burrow his head in your neck and pepper short kisses as you spoon him.

Satan - Satans pact mark is 100% on your coller bones. You can not convince me in any other case. if you asked him, "whats your favored a part of me?" He'd say coller bones. His pact mark is long and simple nearly like whilst your looking at someone read a book and you see squiggly traces on that book. however, his pact mark has some vines coming out then and there. each hazard he gets, he's going to kiss your collarbones. He loves your coller bones for no apparent reason. (He's just weird like that btw)

Asmodeus - Either a womb tattoo or a tramp stamp. He would path kisses from the womb to your lips or kiss your the tramp stamp similar to Mammon, to tease you. Asmodeus will put his hand ontop of his percent mark to experience the warm temperature of it. With the mark to your womb, he'd lay his head there as you read a book or play some games on your DDD.

Beelzebub - I feel like it'd be near your lips or at the tip of your tongue. Additionally maybe to your arm. A tree connecting a number of your tastebuds with the branches to spreading out to either side, it is now not tiny however not honestly massive either. it's at the tip of your tongue, he loves kissing you and sucking your tongue. On your arm it's a tree too but larger than the one on your tongue and it has a little fly next to it.

Belphegor - i'm sorry but i have no idea about him LMAO i think his would be on your cheek or your chest. Where he can lazily kiss in his sleep or before his sleep.

[sanjisblackasswife]

If You're Smart You'd Read This:

I’m in my 20’s.

I write adult shit so children shouldn’t be interacting with me or my posts.

Blank pages /Ageless pages /Minors get blocked. Like 90% of the shit i post is not suitable for yall lmao.

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If you want something specific BE SPECIFIC

I don’t really care for dark content(?) I’m not really sure what it is exactly it is (because I’m stupid) so if your request dark content lmk and if I feel uncomfortable with it ill decline lol

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